


playing it cool

by unoriginalremi



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Probably more characters soon, first fic tho ayyyy, pls critique
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:10:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unoriginalremi/pseuds/unoriginalremi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All you know is that you aren't suppose to try too hard. Or, would that be trying too hard to not try too hard?</p><p>Shit, now Will is looking at you.</p><p>Just turn around and walk back out.</p><p>Smooth as fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. something like the sun

**Author's Note:**

> ((high school au. nico's a little ooc, i guess. will be multi-chapter. critiques are much appreciated!! first fic god bless))

You really like your creative writing class. 

It's between your lunch period and your study, so you have three or so hours of some much needed wind-down time before you go home. You've come to sort of depend on it, if you're honest, because home has been awful lately. Your half-sister tries to make it easier for you, tries to make your dad lighten up some, but it isn't always enough.

It's been tense.

But anyway. You really like your creative writing class.

The teacher, Mr. Blofis, is really cool about you disappearing sometimes, and you see him outside class a lot, too. You think he's Percy's stepdad or something, but you're too shy to ask. Anyway, he doesn't assign a lot of homework and has a different prompt every week, and he makes you feel like maybe one day, you could be a writer.

It's a nice feeling.

You walk into the room late and begin to trudge towards your seat, but Blofis calls you to his desk. You sigh and turn to him, looking over the room and rolling your gum in your mouth. You also glance at your phone and see that you're, like, nine minutes late. He calls you again. You come.

"You wanna tell me why you're so late without a pass?"

You blink a few times, chewing your gum. When you realize he wants an actual answer from you, you shrug. His eyebrows pull together in the middle and you think, uh-oh.

"C'mere," he says, so you walk around his desk to stand in front of him. "Are you feeling okay?"

You raise an eyebrow at him and rub your gum to the inside of your cheek with your tongue. Then you say, deliberately, "I'm okay." It comes out softer than you meant for it to. He doesn't say anything at first so you start to turn away, but he stops you again.

"No, come here." You reluctantly turn back to him and lean on the inside of his desk, in front of his chair, your back to the class. He speaks to you in a low, careful voice, like he doesn't want to startle you off.

"Things are getting kinda tough out there, huh?" You cross your arms and shrug. "It's alright."

"How's your dad, Nico?"

You blow a bubble and pop it, hard, between your teeth. A warning. Tread carefully.

He takes the hint and slows down. He collects his thoughts for a moment. Then, in a quiet, gentle tone, he says, "You need some real sleep. My door's always open and you know Percy." He sends you back to your seat, your head spinning with the idea. Sleeping on Percy's couch.

In Percy's room.

In Percy's bed.

Pause.

You are not doing freshman year over again.

You sit behind Jason's girlfriend and touch the feathers she braids into her hair as she reads her prompt to you. She's always done before everyone else. You don't know what her rush is.

When she's finished, you tell her it's the first time you'd ever heard fan fiction of The Crucible and she laughs.

"It's supposed to be an alternate ending."

"Okay, Proctor Lover XXX."

"You're a jerk."

You remember reading The Crucible for sophomore American Lit last year. You remember liking it, too, but only Piper would rewrite the epilogue in an attempt to give everyone a happy ending. You're about to tell her she's the most sunshine-y person you know when the door swings open and a flustered, freckled boy spills into the room.

Everyone collectively sits up straighter, even you.

Heh. You. Straight.

The boy, presumably a new student who got lost, trudges to Mr. Blofis' desk and hands him his schedule. Blofis looks it over and then smiles at him. "Hello, Mr. Solace. Let me see if we have an empty seat for you..."

You're a little annoyed that he came in fifteen minutes late and didn't get in trouble, but then again, he was obviously lost--wait, shit. The only empty desk is right--

"There, next to Nico. Nico, raise your hand, kiddo."

Piper snorts a laugh, and you slowly raise a hand and give a halfhearted wave. Solace's eyes catch yours and they are very, very, undeniably inexcusably blue. And then, he grins.

Oh, no.

And suddenly he's sitting next to you and telling you his name is Will, and you are fucking mad, bro. First Percy, then those weird two months with Jason and now there's this asshole, who is commenting that he'd never actually seen a guy with nail polish, so that means you're special or something stupid.

Bullshit. Bull. Shit.

"At least it's not black," he says, and you blink.

"What?"

"Your nail polish. Then I'd be really scared."

You glance, bewildered, at your white nails and say, "Oh, yeah." Then you let your voice drop an octave, "Maybe you should be scared anyway."

You clench your fist and mock-glare at him, and he laughs. Heat washes over your face because it is so much nicer than Percy's, and you are immediately rolling in the depths of teenage puppy-love hell.

Shit to the bull.

"Where are you from?" you ask, mainly because he's got a wicked tan and the only other white person you know who is that tan is Annabeth, and she's not local.

"Just moved from California," he says. "This is the third class I've been late to today."

You make grabby hands at his schedule and he slides it to you, saying, "Do you take an art elective? I have art next and I don't know where it is."

"No, I take chorus," you say, looking the schedule over. "But I know where this is. My sister, Hazel, takes art too."

Will smiles a little. "Short black chick, purple bandana?"

You blink, and then you smile. "Does she talk about me?"

He shrugs, "She brought you up when she saw we have this class together. I take first period trig with her." He tilts his head (oh my fucking god). "The resemblance is uncanny, you know."

You have to laugh. You're only half siblings and don't even look that much.

"Yeah, I know. We get that a lot." Then, sheepishly, you add, "Half siblings, on my dad's side."

He nods with understanding, and then his brow furrows. "Did you say you take chorus?"

You snort, "Don't get your hopes up. I can't sing for shit." You blow a blue bubble with your gum and let it pop. You're absently gathering back into your mouth with your tongue, checking Will's schedule one more time, when you hear him hum.

When you look up at him, he's smiling a little, but it's different from before. It's not the "I-just-met-you-and-don't-want-to-scare-you" smile. It's something else. It makes your throat tighten and your fingers fidget, the way he's looking at you, like he's known you his whole life. It makes your chest itch and your face hot.

"What?" you say softly, and in an instant his smile drops and you want to punch yourself in the face.

"Nothing," he says, gently taking his schedule back. "Sorry."

Then you're suddenly both quiet, and you realize with a jolt that Will isn't even your friend. Will's a complete stranger, who you know literally nothing about. You met him less than six minutes ago. It felt longer. How is it that time seemed to speed up with Percy, but slowed with Will? What did that even mean?

Okay, yikes, Nico. Drink less coffee.

"So, uh, what was the prompt, Mister..." he glances at your name, written at the top of an otherwise bare notebook page. "Mr. di Angelo?"

"Oh, um--" You peek at Piper's handwriting over her shoulder, "'If you could rewrite any story's end, what would you write?'"

He bites his cheek (s t o p oh my goodness), thinking for a moment, and then nods as he begins to write. And you do not watch his hands as he does so. You do not see the way his tan fingers curl around the thin pen, nor do you notice how he flicks his wrist lightly to cross his t's. You absolutely do not try to count the freckles spilled over his knuckles.

Whatever. His handwriting is ugly. That's the only reason you're looking.

You clear your throat, chomp your gum and turn your attention to your work. For real this time.

After you write three sentences (none of which were about the prompt), throw two wadded pieces of paper at Grover across the room (one had a stick drawing of you two kissing), and text Travis Stoll your marriage proposal (he said to meet him behind the White Castle at 3am), the bell finally rings. Your first instinct is to leave immediately so you can find a good nap spot in your study period, but Will touches your arm oh-so-lightly and you freeze.

"So, where's the art room?" he asks gently, and it takes you a second to remember how to use your mouth.

"I--uh, oh, yeah, come on." You wish autocorrect worked in vocal conversation. Your life would be so much easier.

As you lead him to art room (you conveniently forget it is way out of your way), he mostly asks you about the school and who you know, and then who you are actually friends with, and then if he could meet them. You almost say no because yikes, they are so embarrassing, but then you look at him, and he's watching you with that little something-else smile. You'll be damned if you're the one to wipe it off his face again.

"Yeah, sure man. They'll love you."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, you're cute and fairly innocent. They haven't had a good meal in a while."

Will's laughter is something like the sun, you decide, bright and warm and impossible to ignore. You could write a book about it. You'll even have a chance to, because he'll be sitting next to you, forty-five to fifty minutes a day, everyday, for at least a couple months.

And the whole time, he won't even be your boyfriend. Kissing him would be considered socially unacceptable, given that you met him today.

Leo gives you a ride home in his dad's old truck, so you vent to him about it.

"Will Solace, huh?" he says smugly, watching you twist your skull ring around your finger (and not the road). "Yeah, Rachel's got eighth period art with 'em. Say's his dad's givin' her a job."

"Okay, great, but what about me?" you whine, and Leo snorts. You blow out an exaggerated sigh, wishing you were talking to Jason or Hazel or Piper and not this asshole. You check your phone. Travis texted you that he'd bring the rings if you brought the priest. 

"Okay, so like, baby steps," Leo says finally. "Step one, smile, say hi."

He swats your feet off the dashboard. "Step two, suck his dick."

You groan as you climb out of the truck, and slam the door as hard as you can when you hear Leo laughing.

You storm into your house, mumble an apology to your dad, who's yelling that you're late, and march up the stairs. You ignore Hazel's worried gaze as you walk past her room. You get a text from Reyna (asking about some sort of wedding with one of the Stoll brothers) and ignore that, too. You close your door, drop your bag, flop onto your bed, place a pillow over your face, brood about being gay, and fall asleep.

When you wake up, it's 3:47 in the morning. Cerberus got into your room somehow, and his head is resting on your stomach. You have a message about missing the wedding, you have done none of your homework, and you're still thinking about Will Solace.

You're going to hate your creative writing class.


	2. keeping score

You couldn't get back to sleep after you woke up at 3:50 in the fucking morning, and decided to do a little homework.

Trigonometry is hard, even when you are doing it with Reyna or Leo or Annabeth. Doing it alone feels impossible, and trying to do it alone, in the dark, with Will Solace on your mind is just stupid, so you stop. You try working on the prompt. You end up with half your notebook in the garbage and two empty pens.

You took Cerberus for a walk. He mostly dragged you around the lot, excited to be up and out this late, so you just let him off the leash and went back home. Then you watched TV in the dark until you heard him scratch at your door. You let him in, went back upstairs, laid back down. 

So here you are, still thinking about kissing Will Solace's stupid, freckly face.

God, does it ever end? You rub your face and look out the window. No moon, few stars. Thank you for the view, New York.

Cerberus trots into your room and leaps unto your bed. He leans down to lick your face, but you push him away. Then you change your mind and hug him close, burying your face in his fur. "Who said great danes weren't lap dogs, right, buddy?"

Cerberus doesn't respond, but he sniffs your cheek and licks you once. You just laugh. "True dat, C. Can't let boys I met yesterday ruin my life."

You don't remember falling asleep, but when you look out the window again, sunlight is streaming through the dark curtains and your alarm clock reports that it's almost seven.

You drag yourself out of bed, find Cerberus in the corner, and trudge to the shower.

Downstairs, Hazel is talking quietly with your father, sitting on the kitchen counter, clutching her phone. You almost walk right past them, but Hazel sounds distressed and you can't just ignore her again. You stop outside the door and listen for a moment.

"You don't trust him? Is that what you're saying, Dad?"

"What I'm saying," your father whispers tersely, "Is that you are a freshman and he is a junior, and I don't like that at all."

Oh, great, the tired topic of dating Frank again.

"I've known him nearly my whole life!" she pleads. Her accent is becoming obvious. She might cry. Time to break this up.

"Hello, my lovely family!" you say, overly cheery, as you swing yourself through the doorway. "Good morning, daddy dearest." You plant big kiss right on his cheek, wink at Hazel, and make for the fridge. She snickers behind you, and the tension in the room dissipates.

Nico: 1, Today: 0. Nicely done, Nico. Why, thank you so much, Nico, I thought so myself.

"Yes, yes, very cute. And where did you sneak off to last night, Mr. Sunshine?"

You shrug, still peering into the fridge. "Wasn't sneaking." You reach for an orange. "Cerberus had to piss."

"In the middle of the night?" your father scoffs, like he's never gotten out of bed to pee. You shrug again, looking at him innocently.

"Nature calls. C'mon, Haze, before we're late."

"You two have another fifteen minutes."

"The bus is fast on Thursdays!" you call, and you're already out the door. You slip half your orange into your mouth and pass the other half to Hazel. "Remind me to go grocery shopping later."

"You didn't have to do that," she says quietly, gazing at the orange wedges in her hand.

"Eh, I wasn't that hungry," you say, absently checking your phone. When you look back up at her, she's got her big, amber eyes trained on you.

"Oh," you say. "Yeah, no, I did." Then you put your phone away. "Hey, we've got an extra fifteen minutes." The corners of her mouth turn up, just a bit.

Nico: 2, Today: 0. You use some of your lunch money to buy her a hot mocha latte, because she doesn't have gloves yet and it's getting colder out everyday.

Your phone chirps as you board the bus. It's Reyna. You weigh your options. You don't want to open the text, remembering that you ignored her yesterday and that she's most likely pissed. But then, you probably should; if you don't, she might think you disappeared again and get worried.

You swipe her message open, sighing. 

RARA: I see you were too distracted to answer my text yesterday. Are you alright?

Oh, great, she's worried anyway. Nico: 2, Today: 1.

You: i'm fine just tired

RARA: I see. Any particular cause for your exhaustion?

You: no

RARA: Oh no? Not even a certain Will Solace?

You: fucking valdez i'm gonna fucking wring his stupid fucking neck

RARA: Yeah, yeah. What else is new. What's he like? Is he cute?

You: actually!! let's talk about piper!!

RARA: Goodbye.

You: coward

"Oh, so you did meet Will!" You jump and nearly drop your cell, forgetting Hazel was standing just beside you. "Jesus, Haze, do you mind?"

"You like him?" she chirps happily, and you roll your eyes, pocketing your phone. "I just met him, Hazel."

"But you like him!?" Her voice has raised a full octave already and you wince. "I mean, okay, so he's cute--"

"And so you like him!" she shrieks giddily, and it is just too early in the goddamn morning.

"What do you want from me, kid? Do you want blood?"

"Admit it!" She can barely contain her Southern accent.

"Yes! Okay? Yes, I like him!"

Hazel explodes into a squealing, giggling mess. Nico: 2, Today: 2.

It's gonna be a long morning, you conclude.

And it drags on. When you get off the bus, you have six new texts that you're afraid to look at. Somewhere during the ride, you began to wonder how many people Leo told, exactly. As you were climbing off, you wondered why the hell you would actually confide in him. It just doesn't make any goddamn sense and you're mad about it.

In first period Chorus, Leo and Piper just grin at you and wiggle their eyebrows at each other from their respective sections, and they both sing better than you and you're mad about it.

In Trig, Annabeth gives you sympathetic smiles as she talks you through the classwork that you just don't fucking get, but she's flawless at (just like everything else), and you're mad about it.

The list goes on, and the school day never ends. Ever. The final bell never rings, and you're trapped in a building full of people who know you have a crush on Will Solace for the rest of eternity.

Nico: 2, Today: 3.

By the time you get to sixth period lunch, you are so thoroughly unhappy that the crowds in the hallway practically part for you. Scowling is now a permanent adjustment to your face. There is a storm cloud over your head, and it's striking everything that moves with poison-tipped lightning from Hell.

Well, you know lightning can't actually be poison-tipped, but you're really fucking angry, dammit.

You're so angry, you almost stop thinking about Will.

You skip the lunch line and slump into your seat between Jason and Percy. Across from you, Leo makes a weak excuse and gets up, but you glare at him so hard he stops. You narrow your eyes, just a bit, and he slowly sits back down. He smiles, but you know. You can smell fear.

"Hey, baby. Bad day?"

You grunt. Jason shifts nervously, but Percy watches with a cheeky grin, his chin in his hand. Leo wets his lips.

"Yeah, that's rough, kiddo. You know what, how about you tell me all about it on the car ride home? I bet if I brought Festus, that would cheer you up!"

"Are you trying to win back my trust with your dog?"

"Did it work?"

"Who else did you tell, Valdez!? Everyone I know has been looking at me like a kicked puppy!" You leave out that you do kind of miss Festus.

Focus, Nico.

"Okay, I only told Rachel! And she said she only told him!" he says, pointing a finger at Percy, who audibly (and quite dramatically) gasps. You turn the glare to him, and Jason stifles a laugh.

"Dude, that's not fair!" Percy cries, "I only told Grover, and besides, Jason was there when I found out, too!"

Jason stops laughing immediately as you turn to him, mouth agape. "Whoa, only told Grover!? Come on, Annabeth and Juniper were there, too, asshole!"

"Oh, like you're so innocent," Percy says, "You told Piper and Reyna literally three minutes later!"

"Well, Reyna told Frank!" Jason squeals, and for a minute you wonder if they all even know Will. But you know they don't. Thinking that makes you really, really upset.

You know they're just excited that you found someone you like, and they don't care if he likes you back or if he's a serial killer or whatever.

They think this will solve everything.

They think this is how your story goes, how you get your happy ending. They want some knight in shining armor to come along and sweep you off your feet and fix you, because you "just haven't been yourself" since Bianca, and then there was all that shit with Octavian and Bryce, and now you're not even angry about today anymore, you never were, you're just really fucking sad because this is what happens every single time. This is why you told Leo, and not Reyna or Piper or Jason or Hazel, because you were afraid this would happen again.

But it happened anyway, and now you're crying at your lunch table, and no one has even noticed yet because everyone's too busy passing around the blame.

Nico: 2, Today: 4.

You hiccup, and all the noise stops.

Percy says, "Whoa, whoa, whoa..." and Leo says, "Shit."

And then the noise picks up again, but it's fluttering all over you now and you just--

"Stop--God, just shut up!"

So they do. And then you get up, and you leave. As you walk away, you take out your phone and read all six of those texts, but you don't respond to any. You're so tired. You already know what conversation the boys are having. Percy will say something like, "What set him off this time?"

Leo will shrug, but he'll still stare guiltily at the doorway, willing you to come back. Jason will say, "He just needs to be away right now."

But a few moments later, he will get up and look for you.

Jason finds you sitting crosslegged on the floor in front of your locker, flipping through pictures of Hazel on your phone, snapping the rubber band on your wrist and still sniffling.

"Guess we got carried away, huh?"

"Same old, same old."

When he sits next to you, you throw every "no homo" he's ever said out the gayest hypothetical window you can think up, and kiss his cheek, leaning so far into him that he places his hand on the floor for balance.

"That was either a thank you or an apology," you tell him, lips against his neck. "But you have to choose one. You can't have both."

Then you pull away. You get a glance of a smile before he hides it. Nico: 3, Today: 4.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"He can't fix me, you know," you say, talking over him. "Stop acting like having a boyfriend will save me."

Jason blinks. "What?"

"I'm sad, Jay. Nobody can cure that. Not a boyfriend, not Bianca, not you. Let me take my meds and I'll get better."

"We were just happy for you--"

"You were desperate for me."

He opens his mouth, and then he closes it, and then, slowly, he wipes a dried tear off your cheek, and somehow there's a sense of finality in the movement.

He walks you to creative writing, and for once, you're early.

There's two other people in the room. One is Mr. Blofis. The other is--well, you should have expected this, really.

Nico: 3, Today: 5. He seems like the kind of kid to show up early, anyway.

So you sit down, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

"Hey, Nico, how are you?"

"Okay, you?" Why would you lie to him? Tell him you're not okay; he's melting your heart, and you need that to live.

Okay, stop drinking coffee, period.

"I'm great, actually. I've made some friends who say they know you."

Your stomach lurches, but you smile at him. "Yeah?"

"Like, uh, Reyna?"

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "I'm so sorry."

Will laughs (more please) and says, "Aww, she wasn't that bad!"

You almost shudder with relief. Reyna's personal boundaries are pretty stiff, but sometimes she has trouble recognizing other people's. At least she didn't interrogate Will.

As far as you know.

"Hey, so, I don't want to cross any lines here, but are you really okay?"

"What do you mean?" you say, too fast, and your stomach lurches again, threatening to give back your orange half. Mr. Blofis looks up for just a second, but he's got earbuds in and you're far enough away from his desk that you feel safe talking lowly.

"It's just, like, okay..." Will blushes a bit, "I was looking at your nails yesterday, and I noticed you wear, like, anxiety bands. Unless they're just regular rubber bands!" he adds quickly, but you shake your head.

"They're... um, yeah. How could you tell?"

"When I asked about your electives, you started snapping them," he says, and then chews the inside of his cheek. You didn't remember doing that, but you're horribly insecure about your singing skills and Will has no reason to lie. Goddammit, he can already tell you're a mess. Usually, people get uncomfortable and change the subject. You'll just do it for him.

"Yeah, I do that," you shrug, "Just helps in a way, you know? Uh, how's your prompt?"

"Finished it," he says. "Look, um, you looked kind of stressed when you walked in--" (holy shit you just got finished crying and didn't even look in a mirror you moron)"--and like, I know the bands are supposed to help with anxiety and, y'know, self-harm urges," he looks to you for confirmation, but your stomach has lurched a final time and wrapped around your neck; you can only nod. He clears his throat. 

"I don't want to pry or anything because I know we just met, but, uh..." he pulls a pen from his back pocket, reaches for your hand, gently guides it closer to him by the wrist. He looks up at you, his eyes warm, and it takes a second for you to register that he wants approval. You nod again. Softly, he tugs the sleeve of your hoodie up--his eyes graze over the fleshy white strips there, as old as freshman year--and presses his thumb just above that spot. Then, he writes a series of digits.

"I just mean, I wanna know that you're okay, y'know?" he says quietly, but you're in a daze. You feel fuzzy and you know you're a little red in the face.

You just nod again.

"For whenever you wanna talk. Okay?"

You love the way he talks to you, breezy and sweet and so softly, so you have to lean close to him to hear.

God, you met this boy a day ago.

"Yeah. Okay." His thumb leaves your wrist--his hand leaves your arm--and you feel oddly cold, like he stole all your heat away when he pulled back.

But the proof is there. There was Will's phone number, etched into your arm with blue ink.

(i wanna know that you're okay)

Nico: 4, Today: 5. You got less points, but somehow you feel like you still won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((heyyy thank u for all the nice responses!! updates might be a bit sporadic but i'll add new chapters whenever i can. next chap will prob be will's pov!! also i really love dogs. could u tell))


	3. assumptions

When you wander into your art class (this time, without Nico; he bolted out of creative writing and was gone before the bell finished ringing) you are only three minutes late, Rachel looks you up and down disapprovingly, but can't keep a smile from twitching at her lips.

"Somebody's flustered."

"Yeah, well, I was late."

Lou Ellen snorts from behind you. "That you were, lover boy. Busy locking lips?"

You bark a laugh. "Right. You're both disgusting."

They're the only people you know from outside school, besides Cecil. They work in your dad's music shop, much to your distaste.

"You love us for it," Lou Ellen sighs.

"Anyway, did you do that thing?" Rachel asks, trying to fake indifference. She can't do it as well as Lou.

You take a deep breath in through your nose.

Hold it.

"No," you breathe back out, letting your head fall forward. Both girls groan, disinterested facades falling away.

"Why not!?" Lou whines like a child.

"Oh, please, I've known him for a day. For two periods, specifically--"

"That's no excuse!" Lou Ellen says.

"Ravish him, Will," Rachel purrs.

You rub your face. These two have been jerks to you all day, and you need a break. So you get up and move across the room, ignoring the girls' squeals of protest. You sit, stubbornly, next to the kid who uses this period as his personal nap time. At least you know he won't be bothering you.

So you didn't ask Nico di Angelo out.

Whatever.

You're taking baby steps--and not the ones Cecil suggested (step one, smile, say hi, step two, suck him off), real ones.

You gave him your number. That makes you practically God, in your book.

You admit that the way you did it wasn't exactly smart, however.

Self harm urges? Pretty insensitive. Extremely insensitive. Actually, why not just yell, "HAVE AN ANXIETY ATTACK!" in his face? You'll have to beat him off you with a stick.

You think about your chat with his friend, Reyna, in fourth period lunch. She was polite, cordial at least, but still pretty intimidating. Extremely intimidating. Actually, terrifying, but in a way that made you feel irrational. "She wasn't that bad!" you'd assured Nico. Not good to start a relationship off with lies.

Except it wasn't really a lie, and this is hardly the beginning of a friendship, let alone a relationship. And Reyna hadn't really been bad, but you felt like, at any given moment, she could decide to be. Like she squeezed grown men between her thumb and forefinger until they popped. Like she could do that to you, if she wanted to, but she didn't think you were worth the effort yet.

Yet.

All she did at first was ask if you were new, because she'd never seen you, and what classes you took. Then she said her friend, Nico, had that class at that period, too, and you said you sat right next to him. Her whole demeanor changed.

"You're Will?" she'd asked softly. You didn't know why you felt regret, exactly, but you sure as hell did. "You're cute," she said, and her eyebrow and chin raised slightly, and her arms and legs crossed, and she leaned her shoulders back, and everything shifted. The clouds rolled in front of the sun. The background noise of the lunchroom hushed to a chatter.

You had pointed a gun at Mama Bear's throat without even meaning to, and the whole forest knew it.

You sigh and rub your temples, and the boy next to you shudders awake. So much for comfort in solitude. You knew it would be short lived anyway.

Your teacher is still going on about the real primary colors (they weren't red, blue, and yellow, surprisingly), and the boy seems confused that he's awake before the end of class. Then he blinks sleepily at you, and you give a short, awkward wave. He blinks again, slower, and you think maybe he won't manage them open again.

"You're not Butch," he says, and suddenly, you're tired, too. You think it's his voice. It takes you a second to collect what he's said.

"Butch?"

"Yeah, Butch. Big guy, senior, rainbow tattoo."

"Oh, yeah. He's absent."

"And you're here." He lets out a big yawn that reminds you of a puppy's, and you follow suit.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't counting on you waking up."

His brows furrow as he rubs one eye. "Neither was I."

Then he looks at you like he just noticed you there, and says, "Why aren't you sitting with those two?"

You glance across the aisle at Rachel and Lou, and they're watching you and whispering to each other. "They're being annoying."

"Because of your crush on Nico?"

"Like, I'll tell them one little thing and they always--what did you say?" The sleepiness rushes out of you as fast as it came.

"Your crush on Nico."

You take him in for a second. He's got a pudgy face and body and a big, round nose. His bangs are too long, so when he blinks (always slow, slow blinks) his hair follows his lashes. He doesn't look like he spends much time gossiping. He doesn't look like he spends much time doing anything, really. Except sleeping.

"How did you--I mean, who told you that?"

He shrugs, looking more awake and a little startled. "I just sort of, like, assumed?" he says, sort of laughing. You are appalled and a little offended.

"And what made you assume?" you squeak, a little too loud. The teacher pauses and tilts her head at you. Then she clucks her tongue and continues to fill in the color wheel clipped to the board with colored pencils.

"Ooh, PrismaColors. Butch would drool..." The boy pulls out his phone (an iPhone with a single crack across the screen), zooms in on the woman's hand, and snaps a picture. Then he texts it to who you guess is Butch with the caption "u shouldn't skip!!!!" His speech bubble is pink.

"What-sa-colors?"

"Prismas. They're Butch's favorite."

"He told you that, or did you assume?" you mutter.

The boy looks you over once. He twists his mouth to the side. There is nothing immediately intimidating about him, but now his demeanor has changed, and you feel like he could read you--anyone like a book, proofreading in red pen the whole way. Deja vu to the max.

And then, suddenly, he drops his cell in your lap.

"I'm Clovis. Put your number here."

You couldn't even find the fight in you to argue. Today has drained you, despite what you told Nico. You pick it up, biting the inside of your cheek. You do that sometimes when you're thinking, or nervous. Or, honestly, all the time. You turn it over, looking at the pink floral designs on the case.

"I'm gonna need that back at some point."

"Yeah, yeah."

When you hand it back to him, he adds six or seven emojis to your name. He yawns, and it really does remind you of a puppy. Wide, open mouth, some squeaking noise in the back of his throat, and then it all snaps shut.

Then, he crosses his legs. "You wanna talk about it?"

"What?"

"Coming out. Liking boys."

"What makes you think--"

"You were offended that I guessed you liked Nico, even though it's true."

When he says it like that it sounds stupid.

"Me and Lou are getting coffee later, so like... I guess you could, like..."

"Cool, I'll be there."

When you walk with him and Lou to Starbucks, you tell someone, for the first time, why you moved from California to live with your dad.

It was a precaution more than anything.

When you're done, Clovis looks at his phone, and says, "Six minutes. I can work with six minutes."

He closes his eyes, and for a minute you think he's fallen asleep again. Then he opens them again and says, "This isn't going to be a problem. At least, not anymore. What's going to be a problem is you being afraid of liking him. Don't let what happened back there get in the way of, y'know..." he motions vaguely with his hands. "You get it."

Then he gets up and leaves. Lou Ellen hasn't looked up from her caramel latte.

"You okay, Lou?"

"Are you?"

She hisses it, like she's angry, but she isn't. You can tell by the way she watches the steam curl up from her cup, instead of just blowing it away. She won't look at you, and you know she isn't angry.

Just sad.

"I don't know, Will. Things are heavy."

She sets her cup on the table, and then she picks it back up.

"Things are heavy."

Then she leaves, too. Even though you didn't do anything wrong, you feel guilty. Everything got too serious too fast.

You need to get home.

When you get there, there's no one in the shop and it's dark. You touch your guitar as you walk past, remembering when Nico told you he was in chorus. Then he said he couldn't sing. You figure it's safe to assume he was being modest, because why would he still be in chorus in junior year if he couldn't sing?

Usually, people easily admit they can sing after being in chorus for a year or two. But then, Nico doesn't seem "usual".

Careful, Will. Don't turn him into a cliché.

"I can't sing for shit," he'd said. You remember thinking, right then, that he probably had a wonderful voice, and you'd probably love to play while he sang sometime. You also remember thinking, "Goddamn, you're pretty."

It isn't often that you realize how pretty someone is while they're saying the word "shit". That had to count for something, right?

You turn around and walk back to your guitar, pretending like you might take it down. Like you might actually play it, and it'll really make you feel better like it used to.

But you just touch it again, and go upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((i added clovis bc the hypnos cabin needs more love. hope u guys liked this chap, and remember, comments and critiques are A+!! and sorry, this was mostly just a filler that got angsty at the end))


	4. distraction needed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((here have a short little thing))

It's been two days since the moment in the coffee shop (since you gave Nico your number). It's Saturday, and you're used to going out on Saturdays.

You feel like the day is in slow motion.

You opened the music store for your dad, who is cooped up in his room, working on something. Always working on something. You feel like you're six again, and almost in a good way.

So you're sitting behind the desk, watching a woman and a little boy wander aimlessly among the beginners books, and telling some guy in a My Little Pony shirt for the fourth time that no, that acoustic is not for sale--literally everything else is for sale, just not that acoustic.

You just started your shift and you already need a distraction. Your leg bounces like the bones are trying to escape. You glance at the clock, then the door, then outside at the nice little bakery across the street. It's a pretty cute place, like most bakeries. There's a girl behind the desk who you're pretty sure goes to your school--Thalia or Teresa, or something.

You'd love to take Nico there.

You'd love to watch his face while he tried to pick a treat, see how his brow creases in the middle, like it does in class when he's really into what he's writing. He'd part his baby pink lips just slightly, and he'd tilt his head, like this was a serious decision. He would blink, all doe-eyed, dark lashes fanning over pale cheeks that you wanted to touch and kiss. He'd glance over his shoulder at you, see you watching him, and probably never let you live it down. But you wouldn't care.

You want to see him blush and stutter and lose his cool. You want to be the cause of it. 

Yesterday, he acted like what happened before class on Thursday wasn't real. He hasn't texted you, but he was definitely acting different. More teasing, more biting, more harsh humor. More comfortable? Whatever it was, you liked it. You wanted more of it. You wanted more of him.

When he started calling you Freckles McSunshine, you glared at him.

"You better stop bullying me, di Angelo."

He raised one dark eyebrow (yeah, his eyebrows were really nice, too) and and said lowly,

"You gonna make me?"

And you might have been just a little turned on.

Something happened right then. His eyes flashed--they had the glint of either a genius or a madman, and you could hear yourself swallow.

"Hello?"

You snap out of your daydream (you just met that poor boy, you need to stop thinking like this) to find the woman with her child, watching you with some concern. She looks like she's been standing there for a while.

"Ah--yes, hi there, I'm sorry, um--"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm--thank you, I'm fine."

"Okay..."

"Um, can I help you with anything?"

There's a pause, a moment of strange tension that reminds you of that time your mom caught you watching porn when you were thirteen.

Then she looks down at the little boy. "We're waiting on you, you know."

He startles and slides his book shyly onto the counter, and you ring them up, and they thank you and leave, and you feel like a paranoid idiot. There was no way for that woman to know that you have a crush on some boy in your class that you've met, like, three times. Your hands are shaky and your face is hot, but she probably thinks you're sick or doesn't care.

You need to stop thinking of Nico di Angelo. You are at work, and you need to focus on this brony who is still checking out your guitar.

"Do you have anything like this?" he says.

"All along the back wall," you say for what feels like the millionth time.

Your leg goes back to bouncing. Your eyes go back to wandering.

Your mind goes back to Nico.

You mostly want to touch his hair. It looks silky and soft, and it's really, really black. You want feel it run between your fingers. You wonder what noise he'd make if you smoothed it back for him, threading your fingers through and scratching him right under his ear, where he does sometimes when he's distracted. You hope he'd hum, closing his eyes and leaning into you.

You wonder what noise he'd make if you pulled it.

If you just twisted it around your fingers and tugged it where it was close to his roots, the kinds of sounds he would let out...

Okay, wait. Back up.

You have never thought about pulling anyone's hair before. Other than that one time in second grade, but not like this. This was something else entirely.

Of course the kid you met literally three days ago is already the subject of your newfound hair-pulling fantasies. You should seriously be ashamed. Nico is a person with feelings and boundaries, and even though there is actually no possible way he could know what you're thinking, you should still seriously be ashamed.

When does this shift fucking end?

The brony guy checks his watch, shrugs, and ambles out the door. You lean forward and let your head hit the counter.

Your phone chirps, and you jump so violently that you bump your head again.

"Ah, shit--" You grab at your cell and slide the message open, rubbing your forehead. It's an unknown number.

Did it get warmer in here? It feels warmer in here.

unknown: sup freckles

unknown: its nico

unknown: u busy?

You: Hey!! No I'm not busy what's up

Why would you say you're not busy? You're in the middle of a shift. You should tell him that you're in the middle of a shift. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, and then you add his number to your contact list.

Don't think about pulling his hair.

Nico: cool so my some of my friends are really annoying and also really want to meet u

Nico: pls pretend ur too busy

You think of Reyna and shudder. But then you think about the fact that Nico's friends actually want to meet you, which means that he's been talking about you, which means he is undeniably and utterly in love with you (and would be totally onboard with the hair-pulling thing).

Well, it at least means he might think you're pretty cool, anyway.

You: Aw, I wanna meet ur friends dude!!

You: Where are u??

Nico: noooooo will pls act like ur at work or something plsssss

You're still in the middle of the shift, but no one else is coming in. It's been a slow day anyway. What's the worst that could happen if you just close up a little early?

You: This isn't up for debate where are u guys

Nico: pls will. for me?

You: Sorry kiddo this is happening

Your dad wouldn't mind. In fact, he might not even notice. You could just slip out the door, say hi to Nico's buddies, give his hair a good tug and be on your way. You could be back before lunch. And if your dad comes downstairs to an empty shop, you could say you stepped out for smoke or something (you don't actually smoke, but sometimes you say that you do to get extra breaks on especially slow days).

Your phone chimes again.

Nico: yes hi hello this is Nico's friend Percy and we

Nico: we are at Jupiter Park and we can't wait to meet you sir

Nico: also this is no longer Percy this is Nico again and i would just like to sya that i am a huge emo weeaboo who is still not over My Chemical Romance breaking up

Nico: also i still watcn Pokemon

Nico: i am so sorry those last four texts were from percy pls don't come

But you're already pulling on your coat. You have to meet this Percy guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((hhhhi'm sorry....... thank u guys for the comments!! those are always welcome as well as critiques and feedback. u guys are the best))


	5. carols and cocoa (and it's october)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((fluffy stuff and only minimal angst this time around. comments, corrections and critiques are encouraged!! thank u!!))

You hate Percy Jackson and you curse his existence.

Frank pats your shoulder as you pull your hat over your face, groaning. You aren't very excited to have Will meet everyone right now, but no one seems to care how you feel, despite Frank's efforts to pretend.

There are six of you. You hope it isn't intimidating. It probably will be anyway; Annabeth is here.

But on the other hand.

On the other hand, you really kind of want to see him. You admittedly could have tried harder to get your phone away from Percy. No one seemed to notice that you weren't really fighting. You were mostly just scared to do it yourself.

So now you're standing by the entrance of Jupiter Park with Frank, Hazel, Leo, Percy and Annabeth, and they're probably more excited than you. Jason and Piper are on a date, and Reyna said she'd catch up with you guys later. She also demanded constant snapchats if Will was going to be there. 

You still haven't confirmed for her that he was coming. The thought makes you shiver.

Anyway, you regret ever making any friends with anyone ever. If you were a loner, like Octavian, no one would ever make you try new things or tell you to be brave, and you would never grow as a person. You would live in a bubble.

That honestly sounds so relaxing.

Frank pulls your hat up a little so he can see you, gives you timid smile and says, "I could tell them to stop, if you want. If you really aren't cool with them messing with you."

You sigh and nudge him with your shoulder. "You know there's no stopping them when they get like this."

"Like this" would be roleplaying how you and Will are apparently going to get married, with Percy as Will and Leo as you. Percy gets on one knee and kisses Leo's hand, and Leo mock-swoons so flamboyantly that Hazel has to catch him (she is playing the priest). Travis Stoll, your fiancée, would be heartbroken.

Annabeth just rolls her eyes and swats Percy's shoulder. Frank rubs the back of his neck. "Honestly, you're probably right."

At least they stopped telling random people that you like someone.

You walk from them to sit on a bench a safe distance away. You snap your bands as you walk. You have no reason to be nervous. Will's meeting your friends, not your dad. And besides, it's not like this is a date. Obviously.

But what if it is though?

What if he actually wants to get to know you after this? Of course, you would like to get to know him, too, it's just. Just.

You can't do this again. You can't do another Percy. What if he gets close just to realize he doesn't really like you? You shake your head, leaning back on the bench. It's made of metal, and the cold seeps through your jacket and numbs your spine.

You're getting ahead of yourself. You don't even know if Will is into you.

Then again, you were pretty sure he was flirting with you in class yesterday. And the look on his face when you actually flirted back? Hell yes. His face flushed, his eyebrows shot up, lips parted, pupils dilated--or, holy shit, was that fear? Disgust? Maybe you just assumed that since it looked good, it was good. You didn't even take into account that every face Will Solace makes looks fucking awesome, you absolute moron. You close your eyes, snap your rubber bands and just. Breathe, Nico.

You barely know him, Nico.

He is just a boy, Nico.

But so was Percy, and so was Jason. You let your head fall back and squeeze your eyes shut tighter. So was Bryce. 

You need to stop doing this. This isn't what Bianca would want. She would want you to let go and give yourself another chance, so you snap, snap, snap away at your wrist till it buzzes with the sting, and the cold against your spine is almost soothing.

Then you just watch the clouds roll over your head for a while.

"So, I was thinking," Will says and Christ Almighty, you jump, "should I put you in my phone as 'Emo Ash Ketchum' or 'My Chemical Bromance'?" 

You just blink at him, sitting right there to your left. "I--what, how long have--"

"How long have I been here? Long enough to learn that Leo needs a leash."

You feel yourself smile a little, and Will's eyes light up. "Emo Ash or MCB?"

You think, "boyfriend," but then check over his shoulder for the guys. "Where'd they go?"

"They said they were making fun of you and went to get apology cocoa."

"Sounds like them."

"I wouldn't lie to you. Hey, is Annabeth okay?"

"Her face just looks angry. The faster you accept it the less scary it becomes. Have they threatened to eat you yet?"

"Once, but I don't think they're committed." He scoots a little closer to you. You pretend not to notice and cluck your tongue. "That false sense of security. Gets 'em every time."

(and don't i know it)

He watches you. You watch your hands. You feel like if you don't keep them in check, they're going to start roaming and touching and wanting, and you can't deal with that yet. You don't look at his jawline, or his hair, or his soft, clear blue eyes.

He leans a bit closer and drapes his arm over the back of the bench. "How're you doing?"

You shrug and allow yourself to lean back into his arm. "You?"

He watches your face for a minute. "I'm alright." Then he looks straight ahead. "Been thinking about college. I'd like to go into music, but I think I want to be a doctor more."

"I thought you liked basketball."

"Man, what are the chances I get a career in basketball?"

"Touché."

"Besides, basketball's mostly just to kill time. I think your, uh, Percy is on the team too, right?" Will twists his mouth to bite his cheek. "I think I recognized him."

"Yeah," you say, "he's on swim, too."

This isn't bad. It's not so hard. It's just new. He's just new.

You resist the urge to lean on him.

"What about you?" Will says. "I know you like writing, right? And singing?"

You bark out a laugh. "I don't know if you could call it 'singing' so much as 'trying to keep up', but yes. I think I like writing more."

He's looking at you again, and you spare him a glance; there's the smile again, the one that crinkles his eyes and pinks his cheeks, just a little. You don't know what that means, but it feels nice. No one's ever looked at you this way before. You shift your weight and tug your hat, looking away.

"I play guitar, you know," he says softly. "If I brought it with me next time, would you sing?"

He's using that tone, the same voice as when he gave you his number, breezy and gentle and light--what did he say?

"Absolutely not!" you exclaim, your face heating. "Next time" echoes in your chest. Will laughs.

"Oh, come on!" he begs, "I bet you're incredible! Just sing a line or two, I promise I won't laugh."

"No way."

"Pretty please?" he gives you puppy eyes, and you almost say yes.

"Drop it, Solace. Not happening."

"What's not happening?" A voice says, and Annabeth and Hazel are there, holding two steaming cups each. How do you keep letting people sneak up on you?

"Nothing," you answer Annabeth, taking a cup from Hazel, "Nothing's not happening. Thanks for the cocoa."

"Nico won't sing for me," Will says. You glare at him. Tattletale.

Annabeth's eyes gleam. "Sing," she says. She hands a cup to Will and motions for him to scoot over so she can sit, and he presses into your side, arm still across the bench. Hazel sits at your feet and crosses her legs.

All eyes on you. You shiver.

"Actually, Reyna asked for snapchats. Let's do that instead," you say, putting your cup on the ground and pulling your phone back out.

"Want me to get Leo to sing with you?"

"Hazel, that is literally exactly what I don't want."

She's already getting back up. "We'll send that to Reyna, she'll love it."

"Ugh, no..."

"Shut up, Nico." Hazel bounces away to find the boys. You groan, and Will laughs brightly, pulling his arm from the bench to drag you closer to his side. You're blushing, you can feel it.

You want to bury your face in his shoulder.

When Hazel comes back with the boys in tow, you start to protest again, but Annabeth sighs and looks at her nails, and you already feel your resolve fading.

"Fine!" you say, standing in front of her (you didn't realize how warm Will was until you pulled away), "But only for you." Annabeth smiles.

Leo moves to stand next you, humming a carol from the Christmas concert that's coming up in a couple of months. Then he snaps the tempo, already swaying. Then he sings, and you're singing too--you know the words and the tune so well, you couldn't stop if you tried.

"Hang all the mistletoe,  
I'm gonna get to know  
You better  
This Christmas  
And as we trim the tree,  
How much fun it's gonna be,  
Together  
This Christmas"

Leo sings higher and you're a little lower, and it sounds nice. Frank puts his cup down and starts clapping along, which gets everyone else started, too. You think Percy is trying to clap and film you at the same time.

"Fireside is blazing bright  
We're caroling, through the night  
And this Christmas  
Will be  
A very special Christmas  
For me"

You like to think you're singing the Donny Hathaway version, not the Chris Brown version. You almost always like the older ones better.

You glance in Will's direction and find he's the only one who's not clapping. His hands are closed and pressed to his mouth, like he's praying. His eyes are wide and filled with stars, and they're trained on you. A smile tugs his lips.

You focus on Annabeth again.

When the song ends, your friends applaud, and Leo claps too, because that was the most successful rehearsal you guys have had all week, and you both know it. Then he perches on the arm of the bench, beaming. "Thank you, thank you," he says.

Percy winks at you. "I sent as much of that as I could to Reyna."

You smile gratefully. He rubs the back of his head. "And Jason, Piper, Grover and my mom." You punch his shoulder, face blazing, and he laughs. "Ow."

You sit next to Will again, twisting your skull ring.

"There, you've thoroughly tortured me. Happy now?"

He covers his face with his hands, and then scrubs them through his hair. Then he grins at you, eyes dancing and cheeks stained with pink and freckles.

"Ecstatic."

You pray to every holy entity that you can think of that you don't fuck this up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((try saying "long enough to learn leo needs a leash" five times fast go))


	6. skelekitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did u miss me?? i missed u guys!! sorry i've been gone so long. last november, my grandfather past away, and i needed a lot of time, u know?  
> but i am back with an adorable new chapter for u!! hope some of u stuck around.

Hazel is positive that if you don't visit the playground, it's not a real trip to the park, so she insists on dragging you all over there before you leave. She walks ahead of everyone else, gripping Frank's wrist as she excitedly calls dibs on the swing set.

Percy and Annabeth giggle and whisper to each other as they trail behind the rest of you, generally being cute and disgusting. Seeing them doesn't hurt quite like it used to, but you still can't help but to roll your eyes. Leo talks with about the Christmas concert the whole way there, walking backwards in front of you and Will, who is. Quiet.

You don't look at him. You're too afraid.

The stroll to the playground is short, but you're still cold by the time you get there. The sun is going down already and the temperature has dropped. You pull your hat a little lower on your head.

"Frank, push me!" Hazel cheers, practically bouncing to the abandoned swings. He just blushes and smiles. "Of course."

Your stomach twists with envy. But then it flutters when you see how happy they are, her laugh melting into the sunset, his hands strong but gentle on her back. He's older than her, but you think they'll be okay. You've known Frank for nearly your whole life. You trust him. And yeah, you are a little peeved that you don't have what they have, but who's to say that won't change, right?

Percy is making his way to the top of the jungle gym. Annabeth and Will go and sit below him, talking quietly. You pretend you don't feel like you tipped your chair too far back. You pretend you don't feel the slightest panic. Then you turn away.

Leo impulsively tries to shove his ass into a baby swing.

You don't even try to help him out. You just laugh. "Percy, get your phone back out! We're sending another video to Reyna!"

"Fuck you, di Angelo."

You wipe an imaginary tear from your eye, still chuckling. "What did you expect, Valdez? To still fit?"

He glares at you, but he's in a fucking baby swing, so it just makes you laugh harder. And after you and Percy take three or four selfies, send them to Reyna, and laugh for another six minutes, you finally start to help him back out. You ended up needing Frank.

Then you take seven more pictures of Frank holding Leo bridal-stlye. By this time, even Annabeth has begun to laugh from under the jungle gym.

Will watches in silence. Probably amused silence, right?

When Hazel goes down the slide in Frank's lap, Annabeth gets up to join them at the bottom. Will doesn't.

When Percy and Leo race on the monkey bars, you all gather around to cheer one of them on. Will doesn't.

When Percy wins by two rungs, and Leo sticks his tongue out as he flips to hang upside down, Will pulls out his phone. You decide maybe he's waiting for you.

When you crouch down across from him, rest your cheek on your knee and sigh loudly, he finally looks up and smiles.

"Hi."

"Hey, party pooper. Wanna tell me why you're sitting in the emo corner?"

He just smiles a little wider. "Am I the emo one, now?"

"Yes."

He bites his cheek. "I'm sorry."

You lift your head and furrow your brow. "What are you doing?"

He sighs, looking at his phone. "Still deciding on your name."

"Oh. Yeah. Put in whatever." 

He glances up at you and bites his cheek again. Then he grins, almost deviously. "I got it."

He types something, laughs out loud, and pockets his phone. You blink. "What?"

"What, what?"

"What's funny?"

He stares at you blankly, trying to play dumb, but then the grin creeps onto his face again. He stifles a laugh. "Nothing."

You feel your defense going up, and your eyebrows knit together. "Let me see," you say, slipping from a crouch to your knees. He shakes his head, giggling.

"You wouldn't get it."

"Now I have to see it," you demand, making grabby hands at his pocket. He's obviously made fun of you somehow. He pushes you away by your chest, still laughing. "No, come on, it's embarrassing. I already regret it."

You whine, "Will!"

He whines back, "Nico!"

You huff, frustrated, and then take a deep breath. Will watches you carefully, that stupid something-else smile on his lips. You decide it's time for desperate measures. You search deep in your memory, thinking back to when you were six, when you still called your dad "Papa". What never failed when he didn't give you what you wanted?

You clasp your hands in front of you, dip your head and look up at Will through your lashes. Some of your hair falls into your face. You don't brush it away. Will's smile fades as you blink innocently at him.

"Pretty please?" you say softly, pouting.

Will looks shocked. Then he makes the same exact series of faces your father always did; the stern determination, and then the slightest softening in his brow, and then, slowly, the acceptance of defeat. It almost makes you nostalgic.

He rolls his eyes while digging in his pocket for a moment, but even in the dim light you can see the redness in his cheeks. Then he (very obviously) avoids eye contact as he unlocks his phone, taps the screen a few times, and holds it out for you. You lean forward a bit to look, and Will clears his throat and bites his cheek.

"SkeleKitten"

Your face prickles with heat. You blink at the phone, squint a bit, and then lean back. You laugh a little.

"What?" Will says, trying to smile.

"You make me sound like... you know, those eleven-year-olds on DeviantArt, their usernames are always like that." You laugh again, shaking your head. "'Kitten'."

"Oh," Will breathes, sounding relieved.

You both go silent, and you can hear everyone else laughing and talking, gathered around the bottom of the slide. "Thank you for showing me," you say.

"Yeah," Will says.

You move and sit next to him, facing your friends' backs, and lay your head on his shoulder. He doesn't seem to mind.

The last shreds of sunlight dip below the skyline.

A quiet settles over your friends as they watch it go. Frank drapes an arm over Hazel's shoulders. You can hear Will swallow, and he pulls you a little closer, and everything is absolutely perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

And then you give Will a solid punch in the stomach.

"Jesus!" he says, rubbing his side. "What the hell?"

"Change my contact name. What the hell were you thinking? It's humiliating."

Will just scoffs.

Then you pull away and get up. You've exhausted your social limits and you're ready to sleep the rest of your weekend away. 

"Hey, uh," Will stops you by grabbing your hand. "This was nice. Fun. I mean, this was fun."

You blink at him.

"And, uh... I don't know. Um." His hand drops from yours. You want to take it again.

Will bites his cheek. Your face is heating again as you wait for him to finish, and for a second you're afraid he won't. You're tempted to snap your rubber bands.

Will closes his eyes, rubs his face, and then looks back up at you, smiling again.

"This is really hard. Please help me."

"Help you what?"

"Come on, Nico, just--" he gestures between the two of you, his face flushed.

"I don't know what that means and you're wasting my time."

"Just, like, say it for me."

"Say what, Solace? I'm not a mindreader."

"Jesus Christmas, Nico, throw me a bone!"

"Did you just say 'Jesus Christmas'?" you laugh, already climbing out from under the jungle gym. 

"Will you go out with me?"

You freeze.

Only for a second, but it feels longer somehow.

Then you rock on your heels and turn back to Will. He's staring at his lap, trying to hide the healthy blush ravaging his face. You roll your eyes.

"Duh."

Will doesn't look up, but his eyes widen a little. "Oh. Wow, o-okay, cool."

He bites his lip, stands up and brushes himself off. "Cool! Awesome!" he says, nearly laughing.

You roll your eyes again. "Calm down, Freckles. You still have to change that contact name. No way I'm letting that slide."

Will wrinkles his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's what i got for now!! ready to see what happens next??


	7. holding hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, hope u enjoy this chapter!! pls comment and critique if u can. i love feedback, especially if ur letting me know i've made an error. thank all of u for reading it means a lot to me!!!

“Duh.”

He made it seem as if it were so obvious, and for a while you wondered why you were afraid to ask in the first place.

You climbed together from underneath the jungle gym, and as you all walk back to the entrance of Jupiter Park, chatting idly and playfully teasing one another, you turn over what Annabeth said to you in your head.

“Just relax,” she’d said gently. “Nico can be a little scary, but he’s really sweet when you get to know him. Just play it cool.”

So much for that. Your whole face was steaming, and he was practically walking away.

But, despite your embarrassing excuse for “playing it cool”, he’d said yes.

Or rather, “duh.”

And now that it was over, and he’s laughing at Leo next to you, so close your hands are almost touching, you have to wonder why you even debated coming.

Wait, why were you debating coming?

Oh. Oh no.

The shop.

A rush of complete dread washes over you and you freeze.

Nico stops too, a step or two ahead. “Will?”

Your father must have discovered you were missing by now, but he hasn’t even called. Has he? You whip out your phone and check your millions of notifications; Twitter, blah blah, Twitter, blah…

He did. He called you.

Twice.

Half an hour ago.

“Will? What’s with you?”

“Oh, my god. Oh, shit.”

You’ve been gone an hour and a half. What were you thinking?

(you were thinking, wow, nico is pretty. i like nico and i like his hair)

“Is everything okay?”

You look up from your screen into the concerned face of not only Nico di Angelo, but also six of his friends, and for a second, you're touched. They hardly know you and are already worrying over you the way Cecil and Lou Ellen do. Then you’re struck with panic again. You turn to Nico.

“I lied to you, and I’m sorry.”

He blinks, taken aback. “I--”

“I said I wasn’t busy, but I was working a shift at my dad’s music shop and I let the time get away from me and now my dad has realized I’m missing and he’s probably really fucking pissed--”

“Stop, stop, stop, Will, what?” Nico’s eyes are wide, “Why would you lie about that?”

“Because,” you glance nervously at the others, who are watching bewilderedly, “I really like you?”

Percy squeals with delight. Nico drops his head and covers his face with his hands, groaning. When he looks back up again, his cheeks are undeniably pink. He grabs your hand and starts walking again.

“What--”

“I dragged you here. Least I can do is walk you back.” He furrows his brow. “Maybe your dad will go easy if you're not alone.”

“Um, Nico?” Annabeth calls as he marches you past.

“Go ahead without me,” Nico answers. “Frank, would you make sure Hazel gets home okay?”

“Uh, sure. Want me to come back for you?”

He waves him off, smiling a little. Then, you two are alone again.

Holding hands.

And okay, it isn’t a romantic moonlit stroll through the city (more like a jog to the nearest bus stop), but you’re alone and you're holding hands.

“What’s your address?”

“7 on Half Blood Boulevard.”

“Really?” Nico says hurriedly, “I know a bakery right by there--”

“Artemis Moonpies and More,” you grin, “They're right across the street.”

Nico finally slows at a bus stop on the corner, and you glance at him just in time to see a series of emotions flash across his pale face. You blink.

“Yeah, that's the place,” he says with a vague hint of sadness.

“I was, uh, thinking of taking you there…” You almost feel bad for suggesting it. Nico almost scowls, but then his features soften. You bite your cheek. “Or--uh, actually, why don't you pick?”

Nico blinks up at you, one brow raised. Then he smirks and shakes his head lightly.

“You mentioned your dad has a shop? A music shop?”

You beam. “Apollo’s Cabin.”

Nico’s eyebrow shoots up again. “Apollo and Artemis? Cheesy enough.”

“Apollo is actually my dad’s name.”

Nico’s eyebrow almost disappears under his hair. You try to mimic his face, but you can’t cock your brow. He laughs a little. Then he nudges your shoe with his and says, “So…”

“So?”

“So, you ditched your shift at work, possibly at the expense of your father’s wrath, to hang out with me?”

“That’s, ah, the gist, yeah.”

“That is… that's bad, Freckles. That's pretty bad.”

“Yeah. I’m getting that now.”

“But…” he lingers at your side, and you want to pull him close.

He turns his face away so you can't see his eyes past his hair. It takes a conscious effort not to touch his cheek. “But…?” you prompt him.

“I’m ashamed to say it, William. I’m a little flattered.” He’s smiling now, but he still won’t face you. It’s almost like he doesn't want you to see.

Before you can tease him, the bus pulls up and Nico hops on as quickly as possible. You laugh out loud as you follow closely behind. The doors close and the metal monstrosity lurches.

The bus is pretty crowded, so you're surprised when Nico stops halfway from the front, thinking he found a spot awfully fast. But he doesn't sit down. You're about to ask him what's up when you see the panic on his face and choke on your words. Then, as if he never froze at all, he spins on his heel and begins striding back to the front.

“We can stand,” he says over his shoulder. You open your mouth and then close it, biting your cheek. Then you clear your throat.

“Uh, Nico? You okay?”

He freezes again mid-step, and even from behind you can tell he’s cringing. You do a mental re-step to find what you said wrong but turn up empty.

“Did someone say, ‘Nico’?” a voice behind you cooes. 

Nico slowly turns back around, his expression grim. You turn, too, to face a tall, thin, straw-blonde boy who was sitting by the window in the back a moment ago.

“As in, Nico di Angelo?” he sneers. Behind you, you think Nico sort of trembles.

“Um,” you say.

“Hey, Nicky. Long time, no see. Who’s your friend?” The boy scrutinizes you with his milky blue eyes, smiling lopsidedly.

Nico clears his throat a little.

“What's up, Octavian?” he mutters. He clears his throat again, and you can see out the corner of your eye that he’s fiddling with his wrist. You look between them, and then step closer to Nico. “How do you two know each other?” you try to smile.

“Oh, Neeks and I go way back,” Octavian drawls. “Right?” he addresses him with a jut of his chin.

“Sure,” he answers shortly, rolling his eyes. “Cool seeing you around, man--”

“But actually,” Octavian plows over Nico’s words, “I haven’t seen you since, you know, I got expelled. Like, remember that thing with Valdez and his van catching fire?”

“His dog, too,” Nico scowls at his shoes. “Festus got hurt, too.” 

Octavian laughs. You feel your brow furrow.

“Anyway. I was just thinking about you, man. It's close to that time of year where you an’ Valdez an’ what's-her-face--Jason’s, right?--you start practicing for your concert.”

You put two and two together; “Valdez” must be Leo.

Leo’s car caught fire?

“Yeah,” Nico says, pulling his bands tensely. “Surprised you remembered…”

“I was thinking about seeing it, actually.”

Nico’s back straightens.

“Maybe I’ll bring our old friend, too,” Octavian goes on.

Nico shakes his head in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s fucked up and you know it,” he says lowly.

“Aw, man, come on, don't act like you don't wanna catch up a little.” Octavian leans forward some, and you resist the urge to lean back.

“Bryce misses you like crazy.” He winks.

Nico drops his head and hunches his shoulders, just slightly, watching Octavian through his lashes. He looks like an animal trapped in a cage. You inhale deeply, closing your eyes. Then you smile at Octavian and take Nico’s hand.

“Well, I’m sure he’d love to ‘catch up’,” you say brightly, “But this is our stop.”

It is not your stop.

You watch Octavian’s sneering face through the window as the bus pulls off, clutching Nico’s hand. Then you look to him, trying to identify any signs of panic in his features.

He just looks angry.

“I thought he blew town,” he mutters.

“Who is he?”

“Some asshole. I thought he was hot shit back in my freshman year.”

He pulls his hat a little lower over his face.

“I made a mistake a few years back, and Octavian is just a dick who won't let it go. But he and his friends are actually kind of dangerous, so if you see him around, opposite direction is the best option.”

You want to ask who Bryce is, but Nico’s reaction to just his name was concerning. You decide it's a question for another time. You squeeze Nico’s hand and smile gently at him.

“You don't have to talk about it.”

He blinks, and then just barely smiles, the corners of his baby pink mouth turning up the slightest bit. You think of kissing him. Then he sniffs and turns away, looking around at your new surroundings.

“I assume you got off because you know how to get home from here, and not just to be my knight in shining armor?”

You close your eyes for a second, the smile dropping from your face. Nico laughs bitterly.

“Of course not,” he mutters, shaking his head. He starts walking in the same direction the bus went, with you in tow. You decide now would be a good time to call your dad.

Nico winces as he listens to your conversation with Apollo (he pressed his ear to the back of your phone, the little gossip), which consists of lot of parental screaming. Slowly, that dissolves into sighs of relief, which then turns to demands for excuses, which leads to the slightest bit of crying, and lastly, anger at leaving the shop alone for a good chunk of your shift.

“Can you please just come get us? We don't know how to get home from here.”

“What!? Where are you!? Who are you with!?”

You name the street and promise to tell him everything when he gets there. After repeating “I love you, too” four times, you hang up. Nico snickers, his free hand over his mouth.

Clutching your phone and gazing skyward, you sigh wistfully and tell Nico the gravest news you’ve ever had to deliver.

“My dad is coming to pick us up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't be afraid to comment or let me know if i've made a mistake. thanks again guys, and i will see u next update.


	8. guitar straps and collared shirts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which will has mommy issues and nico is more anxious than he is letting on

You lean forward in the mirror, then shake your head and lean back, then squint and cock your head, and then lean forward again.

Cecil groans from the little sofa by your bedroom window.

You roll your eyes at him. “I just wanna look good, is that okay with you?”

He groans again. “Dude, you’re six-foot-tall, tan, blonde and fucking covered in freckles. What are you so worried about? You always look awesome.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, glancing down at yourself. You don’t really expect compliments from Cecil.

He shrugs. “Wouldn’t lie to you.”

You focus on your reflection. You try to muster up the confidence of a six-foot-tan-blonde Cecil, but it wavers and falls flat and all you see is a lanky, faintly frightened child. You bite your cheek. Frightened by what? By Nico?

Nico is a little scary.

It’s not like he’s been going easy on you lately, either. Ever since Saturday, he’s been going out of his way to trip you up. Monday consisted of the most heated debate you’ve ever been a part of, and it was about whether or not Hello Kitty bandages were better than Scooby-Doo ones. You don't remember how you got on that particular topic, or who won, but you know you somehow felt different about the world when it was over.

Tuesday, Nico didn't ever actually speak to you. He responded to everything you said with a sigh or by popping his gum. Every so often, he went, “Mhm.” On Wednesday, he just sat on Mr. Blofis’ desk and threw paper balls at you (and another boy you think is named Grover). All they had on them were bad skeleton puns and sarcastic comments.

Thursday, he mostly rolled his eyes and ignored you, his head resting on the desk, which you’ve come to realize is his default setting. Then, halfway through the period, he touched your neck lightly with his icy fingers, muttering that you had some dirt smudged right there, and then put in his headphones. You were walking on air the rest of the night.

On Friday, you told him something along the lines of wanting to kiss him. He tilted his head a little, blinked slow and bored and said, “That’s nice.”

You wanted to strangle him, but you still also wanted to kiss him.

And now, Lou Ellen rushes into the room holding two more shirts that you don’t want to try, and you feel a little like fainting. Or, at least, like you could fake it convincingly enough to get out of this.

“Stop it, Will, he’s even more nervous than you,” Lou says suddenly.

“I’m not nervous.” Your voice cracks. Cecil and Lou Ellen share a look.

“Okay,” you give, “But you don’t know what he’s feeling. You could be wrong.”

“But I’m not,” she says.

“How would you know?”

“Magic,” she says simply, and who can argue with that?

She holds the shirts in front of you in the mirror.

“What’s wrong with my white one?” you ask, laughing lightly. Lou just shakes her head.

“Cecil, blue or purple?”

“Blue. Brings out his eyes or something,” he mutters, not looking up from his phone. Lou hands it to you--a button-down cuffed at the elbow. You hold it up and smile a little. It’s nothing stunning, but still handsome in an simple way. That’s how your mom would say it.

Your chest pings and you close your eyes for a second. Lou really does remind you of her sometimes. But your mom would be helping you get ready to go on a date with someone else. You need to focus.

“I told him I would bring my guitar,” you say, pulling your white tee off. You can almost feel Cecil roll his eyes, but Lou claps and bounces on the balls of her feet.

“Does he play?”

“He sings, remember?”

“No, Will,” Cecil slides from the arm of the sofa to the cushions, “You told me that, not Lou.” He drops his phone on his face. You snort, buttoning up your shirt.

They follow you down through the music shop and to your guitar. You touch the neck lightly, as if you might scare it off.

“How long since you last played?” Lou asks.

(two months and three days)

“A while,” you say, shrugging one shoulder, “I’m not sure.”

You reach out and pick it up, and it burns in your arms. You turn it around and readjust the strap. You must’ve grown some since you last held it. Memories of your mother flood your head and you close your eyes again, pushing them back.

Lou Ellen untwists the strap on your shoulder, unaware of the moment you just had. You open your eyes.

“Maybe I shouldn’t bring it.”

“Don't be stupid, he’ll love it.”

You check your phone; 2:32. If you want to meet Nico at 3:00, you should leave now. You tell Cecil and Lou not to wait up, and they wish you good luck. You open the door, take a shaky breath, shift the guitar strap on your shoulder, and don't step outside.

Instead, you stand in the doorway, one foot frozen above the sidewalk, for about six seconds.

Somewhere behind you, Lou Ellen begins, “Aw, Will--”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake--” Cecil gives you a hard shove in the back and slams the shop door behind you.

Sometimes he knows exactly what you need.

You walk briskly to the bus stop, almost get on the wrong bus, and nearly sit in a grown man’s lap waiting for yours to show up.

“Christ, I’m sorry,” you say quietly, rubbing your neck. You face is burning and probably looks like a tomato, but so does his, so you don't sweat it.

The bus ride is over all too quick and you get off at 2:50. Standing in front of the place Nico said he wanted to meet, you take up the “casually-waiting-for-someone-while-also-checking-my-phone-because-I-have-friends” stance. This will be fine. You had fun at the park, why can’t you have fun now?

Annabeth’s voice rings in your head.

Just relax. Play it cool.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to remember that Nico is your friend. He’s small and grumpy and you want to hug him (and also pull his hair and maybe touch his butt). The worst that could happen is you spill something on yourself and he laughs. In, like, a mean way.

And he then tells you this was a mistake and you’re an idiot for hoping it could work.

And then you, like, get a papercut, and you cry in front of him over it, and he laughs some more.

And then on the way home you accidentally step on a dog and hurt it really bad.

And then you get a phone call that your dad died.

“Will.”

“Yeah--hey!”

Nico stands in front of you, smiling mischievously. “Hello again,” he says.

“Sorry,” you laugh nervously, and he reaches up to hug you, wrapping his arms around your neck. You hug him back and bite your cheek, chastising yourself.

He pulls back. “I when I got here, you were just holding your phone in your hand with this sour look on your face. I saw your phone was asleep, even.”

“Yeah, I get…” You gesture vaguely at your head. “Um, how long have you been standing there?”

“About a minute and a half--”

“Wow, okay, anyway,” you shake your head, mortified. You nod to the building behind you. “Shall we go in?”

“What, in the bank?” he tilts his head. You blink. “I just picked this building because it’s the ugliest one on the street. It’s super hard to miss.”

You turn and look at it as he pulls you away by your wrist. It is really bad.

"Nice guitar," Nico says over his shoulder.

"I was hoping maybe you'd sing while I play."

"Fat chance," he scoffs.

You smile and look Nico over. He’s wearing a dark blue sweater over a collared shirt, and you can see some piercings in each of his ears. He’s awfully cute. You glance at his hand grasping yours and see his nails are painted the same dark blue as his sweater.

You should kiss him tonight.

When he stops at a crosswalk, you ask him about something that's been bugging you.

“How come Mr. Blofis lets you do whatever you want, huh?” You pinch at his side and he wrinkles his nose.

“He’s madly in love with me.”

“Be serious! He never gets mad at you, no matter what. What is your secret, di Angelo?”

Nico shrugs. “He gets mad at me sometimes.”

“No he doesn't.”

“Yeah. One time last year, I sat in his lap. He wouldn't talk to me for days.”

You slap your hand over your mouth, appalled. “You're insane.”

He shrugs again, stepping into the street. “It was funny. But Percy was weirded out when he heard about it.”

“Why’s that?” you ask, following him out.

“You don’t know? Blofis is with Percy’s mom. Has been for a few years.”

You didn't know that.

You realize suddenly that Nico didn't really answer your initial question, and you’re about to point out that most kids would be in huge trouble for that kind of behavior, but something makes you close your mouth. There's got to be a reason Nico only got the silent treatment, but he really doesn't seem to want to talk about it. You decide to just appreciate his strangely cool hand in yours and walk.

Nico leads you to a towering, sand-yellow building with giant windows and marble steps leading to the glass doors.

“A museum?” you guess, squinting up at it.

“Think older and more boring,” Nico beams. He bounds up the steps with you in tow.

Just as you pass under the arch of the door, you catch a glimpse of the words carved into stone above you:

“The Sibylline Books Library: All Are Welcome”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u guys like this chapter, i'm excited for some things i'm planning so i do hope u stick around!! feedback is much appreciated, especially comments, so don't be afraid to do so!!


	9. the most generic first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some cheesy self indulgent fluff take it just please t a k e

You know your idea of a fun first date isn’t exactly orthodox to high school students. You try to own it. And honestly, it’s only Will. There’s no one here to impress.

Even as you mull over those words in your head, you need to remind yourself to breathe.

Percy, Hazel, and Jason freaked out when you told them about your date. You haven't dated anyone since Bryce, so they seemed even more excited than you were. Jason thought you should have taken him to some super expensive high-class restaurant, but Percy and Hazel told you to do something relaxing together.

“Just play it cool,” Percy explained, shrugging. “Don’t try too hard to impress him.”

You snap your rubber bands once, hard. Relax, Nico.

Will doesn't seem to notice the glances you can’t help but send his way. You find yourself staring more than once, partially because you have to see if he realizes how hard you are bullshitting, and partially because--well. That shirt fits him real nice. Everything seems to fit him real nice. You want to say he’s amazing, but it doesn’t seem like a big enough word.

It dawns on you slowly as you guide him through the mystery section; Will Solace is something incomparable. You try to chant to yourself that he is just a boy, just a boy, but it’s no use. As soon as you begin to convince yourself that he is just another unimportant teenage boy, another one you can live without, he flicks his impossibly blue eyes back your way and sends you a reassuring smile, and you’re gone.

You should kiss him tonight.

“Is this where you go for all your first dates?” Will asks you cheekily. You roll your eyes at him and stick out your tongue, and he laughs. Hearing it still makes you warm all over.

“Actually,” you think out loud, “This is the first time I’ve been here with anyone else.”

“Really?”

“I think, yeah, other than my sisters.” 

Will spins in a slow circle, staring at the murals depicting Greek legends painted on the high ceilings.

“God, it’s beautiful,” he breathes, doe eyed. When he drops his head to face you again, he’s got the something-else smile on his lips. A shiver runs up your spine and you turn away.

“Come on, Solace. Horror section’s this way.” You look over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you’d rather go find the children’s aisle. Or maybe the romance section might be more your speed.”

“I take offense to that!” Will says, following close behind you. “I happen to like romance!”

You let a little laugh escape you, and a second later, you feel Will’s warm hand slip into yours again. You have learned through experience that you don’t like unexpected touch, and you prefer to initiate any physical contact, but this.

This, you don’t quite mind.

You read three horror stories out loud at his request, talk shit with him about Edgar Allen Poe (odd, considering you don’t mind Poe and Will admitted he’d never read any of his work), ride a cart with him through four empty aisles until you tip over, get whisper-yelled at by Ella, the librarian, and act out a very dramatic (and very quiet) scene from a romantic novel while laying on the floor. Will is searching for a “kissing-in-the-rain” description when you find a piece of paper under one of the shelves.

You sit up to look around for a pen.

Two aisles away, you find a golf pencil, and then a red ballpoint under a table. You write “hey” on the page in red ink and bring it to back Will.

He blinks at it, and then takes it and the golf pencil carefully, his eyes thoughtful.

He hands the paper back a minute later.

“Hi. Can I tell you a secret?”

“what”

“I think you’re cute”

You crumple up the sheet and throw it at him while he laughs like the dick he is. “I’m hungry,” you huff, getting up. Will follows, still chuckling.

Just before you step back into the lobby, Will touches your arm lightly, and you can hear that he’s still laughing a bit. “Wait,” he says. “I’ll get a horror story if you get a romance novel.”

You blink at him. “That sounds stupid.”

Will just smiles slyly. “Pick one, or I’ll pick one for you.”

“I don’t care,” you shrug. “You can’t make me read it.”

“I can make everyone believe you want to.”

You cock one eyebrow and cross your arms.

Will smiles wider. Then, spinning away from you and cupping his hands into a microphone around his grin, he shouts, “Fifty Shades, Nico?! Really?!”

You rush over and slap your hand over his giggling mouth, cheeks blazing. He catches a glimpse of your horrified face and stifles more laughter.

You look him in the eyes and whisper harshly, “You know I have to kill you now, don’t you?”

He just wiggles his eyebrows.

What a tool.

You pick a quick, trashy something that could only take a few hours to complete, even with your dyslexia. The cover of the paperback is awfully generic, with some metro-hetero pasty couple all oiled up and falling over each other, gazing longingly into the other's perfect eyes. To you, they look vaguely frightened. Also, the guy is topless.

You hold it up in front of Will’s stupid chummy face.

“Charles and Staysia are caught in a forbidden romance,” you say, pretending to read the back of the book. “They’re straight, white, fairly wealthy young adults, and believe it or not, it gets worse!”

“You are so childish.”

“No, seriously, that’s what it says.”

Will rolls his eyes at you and starts heading in the direction of the door, deal forgotten. But you’re gonna milk this. You check out the book before you leave.

You sit yourselves down at the lovely little garden restaurant in Jupiter Park half an hour later. You used to come here a lot, because Frank and Reyna worked here. They even got Hazel a job for a while, but she was a bit young for it.

You stopped coming because Octavian worked here, too.

But as far as you know, after the thing with Leo’s van last year, he got fired. And after avoiding it for so long, it felt refreshing to be back in New Rome.

You hope Will loves it here as much as you do. If you’re lucky, Frank might be here to serve you.

If you aren’t so lucky, Reyna. You might have maybe been avoiding talking to her about Will.

You snap your bands once and distract yourself with the book.

“Will, I shit you not, it’s called ‘The Licking of Flames’.”

“Oh, holy shit, it followed us. Nico, go return that thing.”

“Huh, one of these reviews on the cover just says ‘Kiss my ass.’ That's weird.”

Will groans (but he’s smiling a bit), and then decides to ignore you, looking at the paper menu instead. You don’t have to, you already know what you want, so you flip through the pages and read him any lines that are particularly hilarious. He just smiles.

Your waiter arrives, greeting you a little hurriedly.

“My names Dakota, and I’ll be serving you today. Are we starting off with any drinks?”

Relief washes over you as you open your mouth to ask for a hot chocolate, but someone across the room interrupts you.

“Actually, Dakota?” You wince at the familiarity of the voice, snapping your mouth shut.

“I got this one.”

You glance over at Will, who looks just as panicked as you feel.

You should not have come to New Rome.

Dakota puts his hands up in surrender, stepping away from the table. He winks at you and grins at Will briefly before leaving you alone with your new server.

Reyna stares daggers into your very soul and smiles icily, pulling out her notepad with rigid fingers.

“Drinks, boys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAMA BEAR FINALLY ARRIVES  
> both boys were found dead later that evening. that's the end go home everyone


	10. nico's friends are doing their best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like here's this i guess lol

Abort mission. Abort fucking mission. There she is, in all her terrifying glory, bringing you a hot chocolate and a Sprite on a tray.

You feel like crying a little bit. Reyna gently places Will’s soda in front of him, smiling sweetly, and then carelessly drops your mug on top of your menu. You and Will both jump. You blink, rub your wrist, and nervously try to make conversation.

“Reyna, did you know Will plays guitar?” you gesture to the instrument strapped to his chair.

“Oh, does he? That’s lovely,” she says directly to him, and then hisses to you, “Maybe I would know that, if I ever heard about him.”

She straightens her back. “You guys ready to order?”

You and Will exchange an anxious glance.

You should not have come to New Rome.

“Wow,” Will whispers after Reyna has taken your orders and marched away.

“I know, I’m sorry--”

“She’s incredible.”

You blink. “Pardon?”

“It’s obvious how much she cares about you. You guys must be so close.”

You tilt your head. “Jesus, Solace.”

Will smiles. “She’s scary, though.”

“Tell me about it.”

Reyna goes back forth from your table sporadically, spamming you with texts in between. But you’re on a date. She’ll have wait for details, because right now, you just want to learn about Will. Also, you’re very scared of talking to her. But mostly, Will. You like listening to him talk, watching the way his eyes roll or sparkle or dart around the room. You like the way his freckles sort of dance when he laughs, and you like that when he bites his cheek thoughtfully, his eyebrows go up and disappear under his hair.

He is the first person you’ve wanted to care about in a long time. It’s so painless.

You roll your eyes at yourself and Will notices. “What?” he laughs. You just shake your head, and you feel yourself smiling a little.

He smiles, too, touching your knuckles. You don’t flinch away, which surprises you.

Reyna is furious when you get up to leave, but smiles anyway as she takes the check and healthy tip. She watches you as you walk out the door, but you're in a fucking awesome mood and you don’t give a shit. You wiggle your fingers at her as you leave. You're going to regret it all in the morning--her eyes tell you that much. Not yet, though!

You have to walk through Jupiter Park to get back to your bus stop, so you don’t rush. It’s only 6:15. Will strums his guitar idly, nudging your side. You ignore him.

“Any siblings?” You ask him.

“Nope,” he says, strumming a little louder. “You?”

You twist your mouth, not knowing how to answer for a second. “Well, you know Hazel.”

“I thought you said ‘sisters’ earlier, like, plural.”

You wince. When had you said that?

The library. Of course Will would pick up on something like that. He would consider it rude not to. He’s so overly polite sometimes.

What a dick.

“Oh, well, you know. I had an older sister, before I lived with Hazel. Um,” You aren’t entirely sure how to continue without ruining the mood. You touch the bands stretched over your wrist.

Will pauses his guitar playing for just a second--someone might’ve guessed it was intentional. Then he picked up where he left off, the same idle, happy tune. “Oh.”

You’re relieved, for some reason.

Will says, “Do you know this song?” and plays a little louder. You glare up at him.

“I’m not singing for you, Will. You lived in California, right?”

He frowns at how you skim over his subtle request, but then brightens at the memory of his home.

“Yeah, I was born in Texas, but my mom had this dream of being a singer and thought she could make it big in California. She isn’t so into it anymore, so I got her guitar,” he smiles, leaning the instrument closer to you, bumping it annoyingly into your side. You roll your eyes.

“So now you live with your dad,” you say, trying to pull the subject from music.

“Yeah-huh.”

“Why’d you leave? Did you miss him?”

Will stops playing again, almost the same way as before, except his steps falter as well. You suddenly wish you could pluck the words from the air and shove them back in your mouth, though you’re not sure why. The look on Will’s face is the same one Reyna gets when the scar in her side is aching.

You remember how she got that scar, when her father threw a whiskey bottle at her, and shiver.

Then he regains his pace, fixes his face with a small smile and keeps on playing.

He says in low voice, “My mother and I had a lot of disagreements.” He smiles a little more, but it looks strange. It’s unsettling.

You thumb your bands.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Solace.” He nods, still smiling.

“Do… you wanna, like, talk about it?”

“I’m…”

Your phone suddenly begins to vibrate in your back pocket. You feel your face turn beet red as Will opens his mouth, closes it, and bites his cheek.

You snatch it from your pocket. Reyna.

Remember, Nico, murder is illegal. Very illegal and upsetting.

“I’m--uh, fuck, sorry, can I just…?”

Will nods, blinking owlishly at the ground.

When you’re a few steps away, you finally answer it.

“Holy fucking shit, Reyna, can’t you at least wait until I’m home, you animal?”

“Were you really so afraid of me that you couldn't tell me about this?”

You’re already talking over each other, so you just shut up and let her speak.

“We’re supposed to tell each other when things like this happen, remember? Nico?”

You rub your forehead, then your wrist, and take a deep breath. Your phone steams in your palm.

“Nico?”

Jason and Percy and Leo are sitting in front of you in the cafeteria again. Irritated, you feel for your rubber bands, but suddenly there's nothing.

“Nico.”

You're startled at how little you feel. There's no reason to panic, Reyna is just frustrated, but. Reyna? Who is Reyna? You only remember itchy and hot.

“NICO.”

“Huh? Yes, yeah, I’m here. I’m sorry.”

“You--”

“I should have told you. We can talk more about this later. I gotta go, but I’ll call you back.”

“That… Wait--”

“Love you. Bye.”

And then you hang up.

You turn back to Will, who is staring at you strangely, his head tilted and his brow furrowed. His guitar is thrown back over his back.

“You alright?” he says, in that low, breezy voice that you love. You can remember everything.

“Yeah,” you say. “Where were we?”

You talk about nothing at all as he walks you to your stop. It was obvious Will didn’t want to pick up where you left off, so he rambled about nearly everything else. You don’t remember the exact topic of conversation. You think it had to do with bandaids and school.

But you do remember that before your bus pulled up, Will touched your arm gently, and you didn't even jump. Then he touched your chin, brushed his thumb quickly over your cheek, and kissed it. He said something sweet to you in his soft whisper of a voice and then stepped back as your bus arrived.

You do remember that.

You lay next to Cerberus and stare at your phone now, thinking of calling Reyna back but wanting to call Will. You reach out to message him that you had a good time and goodnight, but it chimes before you even touch it. Maybe it’s Will...

It’s Percy.

This Fucking Guy: Annabeth’s dad and stepmother are going out of town

you: okay?

This Fucking Guy: We’re throwing a party next Saturday are u going to come

you: no

This Fucking Guy: Yeah u are and if u don't I’m making Jason come get u

You wrinkle your nose, irritated.

you: u can't make me come to ur party

This Fucking Guy: U can bring will

This Fucking Guy: OH HOW WAS RHE DATE

you: it was

you: really nice

you: which is reason number one why i Am Not taking him to ur party

This Fucking Guy: Actually I just had a good idea! i’ll just ask will he’d love to go

You know for a fact that Percy is absolutely right. You close your eyes and groan. Cerberus makes a gruff noise and blinks sleepily.

you: percy no

This Fucking Guy: Percy yes

you: listen if i ask will to meet me at this party are we allowed to leave when we find each other??

This Fucking Guy: Ugh ur no fun

This Fucking Guy: But yeah whatever

you: fine deal

You hesitate, but then type quickly, hoping to send your message before Percy replies.

you: why are u trying to make me go to parties anyway

There is a long silence on the other end. The “typing” bubble pops up and disappears twice. Then it goes away for a long time. You guess Percy has given up and went to sleep, and you roll over to do the same when your phone chirps. Before you can even unlock it, it receives two more messages.

This Fucking Guy: Because seeing people helped me. I guess i’m just hoping it will help u too

This Fucking Guy: U don’t have to come if u don't want to, Nico

This Fucking Guy: But I want u to get better. U deserve it

You blink at the screen for a minute, not sure how to reply, and tuck your hair behind your ear.

Your phone chimes again.

This Fucking Guy: Sleep tight kiddo. See u Monday

You stare until the screen goes dark.

You’ll just call Reyna and Will in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reyna doesn't mean to be overwhelming she's just a mommy who tries too hard  
> thanks for reading!! comments and criticism, always much appreciated!! more will be up soon so stay tuned!!


	11. in which will is very conflicted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes

It has been two whole days, and you are still one hundred percent walking on air, head-over-heels, living on cloud nine over your date with Nico di Angelo.

A real date. With a boy. A cute, pretty, talented, smart, witty boy.

And you kissed him a little. Not on the mouth or anything, because you’re still just friends, but damn! You have texted literally everyone about it. Dad, Kayla and Austin back in California, Cecil, Lou Ellen, Rachel, Clovis, Jake From History Class.

Yep, you’ve texted everyone who would care.

Everyone.

Except your mom.

You walk into the school building like you fucking own the place. You see Leo Valdez heading to his first period, and stop him to make up a secret handshake. You chat with Hazel about Nico your entire trig period. At lunch, you sit right down next to Reyna and make civil conversation like a goddamn adult. You actually raise your hand in Psychology, and you get the answer right, too. Fuck yeah.

When you go to the bathroom, you catch a glimpse of your reflection and all you can see is her, and she is scowling.

Creative Writing, here we fucking come!

You slide into your desk, doing a little drum solo with your fingers. The girl who sits in front of you, Piper McLean, smiles over her shoulder. “Someone’s chipper.”

“Can’t stop the sun from shining, Pipes.”

Her kaleidoscope eyes glint prettily. “I like that.”

“Yeah?” you beam at her. “My dad says it all the time.”

She gazes at you a while, watches as a few more students wander into the room, then turns in her chair and says, “You know, Will, I don’t wanna brag or anything, but I’m a love guru of sorts.”

You raise brow at her challengingly, tilting your head. “Oh?”

“Mmhm. I think you’ve been shot by Cupid’s arrow.” A crease forms between her eyebrows. You blink, still smiling, suddenly unsure of her kindness.

“Think so? That’s nice.”

Piper’s mouth twists, like she’s trying to smile to hide a cringe. Her brow furrows. “Well, I mean, getting shot isn’t ever nice.”

You start to laugh, but it doesn't actually seem funny.

You think she knows you’re scared.

“Good point,” you say, wringing out a chuckle anyway. Piper smiles again, for real this time.

“Just chill, guy. Play it cool. No judgement here.”

Okay. She’s magic, you’re convinced.

You can only bow your head gratefully as the bell rings. She ruffles your hair and turns around.

And there is Nico, in an oversized pullover hoodie and combat boots and no coat, his hair pulled back into a ponytail holder.

He drops his bag in your lap. “Oh, sorry, this seat is usually empty.”

“Shut up.”

The prompt Blofis assigns this week is relatively long and oddly relevant: “How does one connect and differ from one’s parent(s)/guardian(s)? Why might someone connect to a fictional character more adequately?”

This is the first time you have an answer right away, and also the first time you don’t write. You feel your fingers begin to blister with protest every time you reach for your pen.

You watch Nico instead.

He doesn't actually write much in this class, you’ve noticed. He always has his work in on time, and he always gets a good grade and decent feedback, but you can tell he does it all the night before it’s due.

You wish you could do that.

Nico seems to do everything on his own time. He writes when he wants to, eats when he wants to, doesn’t eat when he doesn’t want to. Sleeps sometimes, stays up sometimes. He comes to class when he wants to, and sometimes he doesn't. 

Sometimes he’s late, but not in the same way you are. You’re late because you are rushing on long, occasionally uncontrollable limbs. You are late because you get lost.

Nico is late because he is out doing something else, and then decides perhaps he will go to class. He arrives if he can before the next bell. You wonder if his parents know how he does things. You wonder if they care.

Anyway, you watch Nico write.

He jots something down, pauses, scratches it out, and writes over it. His hair falls in his face despite being mostly pulled back.

“What are your parents like?” you hear yourself ask him. He keeps writing, and for a moment you’re not sure he heard you. Then he drops his pen and twists the ring on his finger, thinking. He shrugs one shoulder (his hoodie slides down a little).

“My dad’s alright, mostly. He’s just, like, really intense sometimes.”

He tilts his head a little. “But my mom would really baby us. She was the best.” He smiles. “Didn't speak even a little bit of English.”

“What did she speak?” you ask, cautious of the past tense.

“Italian,” Nico says, like he’s just now finding out himself. “It’s actually my first language.”

He seems so proud, you’re scared to ask what happened to her. “Does Hazel speak Italian too?”

“Oh, no,” Nico says softly. “My mom didn't actually meet Hazel, I don't think.”

You take Nico’s hand as you leave that classroom after the bell rings, pull him gently to the side.

“Can we meet up again? I mean, I don't know how you felt about Saturday, but--”

“Yes.”

You blink. “Oh.”

Nico turns red.

You want to laugh at him, but your face feels hot, too.

He tucks some hair behind his ear (don’t think about pulling it don’t think about pulling it don’t think abou), “Um, Percy and Annabeth are having this… thing? This weekend? And Percy said I had to come or he’d kidnap my dog and hold him for ransom, and I just thought of you, and, um…”

He opens his palms to you, looking away. “I guess you’re invited now?”

You are, once again, very grateful for Percy Jackson.

Seriously. You have to thank that guy.

Nico reaches up to hug you before you leave for Art, wrapping his arms around your neck. He’s short enough that you can pretty much rest your chin on his head, but he would probably hate that. You slip your arms around his waist, press your hand to the small of his back. You can feel him hide his face in the crook of your neck.

He pulls away before you even realize what happened. You reach up to touch the left side of your jaw.

He definitely just kissed you there.

Nico di Angelo totally, definitely just kissed you.

Like, not on the mouth or anything, because you’re still just friends, but like.

It’s just like.

Holy shit.

Art is over before it even begins and the final bell is what brings you back down. Lou Ellen, Rachel and even Clovis have been staring at you for a while. The room is already empty somehow, save for the teacher at her desk, waiting to lock up.

“Hold on. I think he’s waking up,” Rachel mutters.

“Really?” Clovis says. “Well, I’m out. Later.”

“Bye.”

“What?” you ask. Lou Ellen gasps and claps.

“He’s back!”

“Cut it out. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on with us,” Lou says. “What's going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me,” you say. “What’s going on with you?”

“Come on, Will,” Lou sighs. “Something is going on. You just smiled at your desk for fifty minutes. What is going on?”

You blink. “Did I, really? What is going on?”

“Oh my god,” Rachel mutters, rubbing her temples. “It’s probably about his boyfriend, who cares, let’s go to Blackjack’s and get doughnuts.”

You scoff. “What boyfriend?”

Rachel and Lou seem confused. “Nico,” they say.

“What? I’m not… He’s not…”

Rachel raises a brow. “I thought you guys were going out.”

“They are,” Lou says. She looks concerned.

“We are,” you say. “We did. I mean, we are. But we’re not, like…”

“Didn’t you kiss?” Rachel asks.

“No. I mean, I kissed him. On the face. On the cheek.” Your whole head feels very, very warm. “We’re just friends. Right now.”

Lou Ellen starts to open her mouth, but just turns and looks at Rachel instead. Rachel raises her eyebrows and shrugs.

“It’s going really good though,” you say. “He invited me to a party.”

“Oh,” Rachel says, twisting a red strand around her finger. “It’s like that right now.”

“Oh,” Lou Ellen mouths.

You’re lost. The teacher sighs loudly.

“Doughnuts!” Rachel says as she turns on her heel.

They leave you in the mostly empty room. It’s almost incredible how quickly they lose interest.

Nico isn’t your boyfriend. Not yet. Is he?

It’s not that you don’t want him to be, obviously, but you met him like, two seconds ago. Your mom would explode.

You hiss at the thought. Your mom isn’t here. It doesn't matter what she thinks.

Remember why you moved here in the first place. Pull it together, Will.

Go home.

You spend the rest of the week working, ranting to Cecil, and staring at Nico, and touching your guitar but not playing it, and talking to your dad about possibly maybe going out again.

He’s still really mad about the whole “ditching your shift” thing. It took you three hours to convince him to let you go on your date. But a party? Yikes. At least you’re going out and meeting new people. This is basically what he wanted, he kind of asked for this.

And other times you gaze at the bakery across the street. Artemis Moonpies and More.

At first, you wanted to try the place out, but somehow Nico dampened the idea for you. He scowled at even the thought of it.

Now when you look at it, you only notice how fake the employees’ smiles look. How sadness seems to radiate off the cute, chipper building.

You’ve sort of come to fear it.

It’s complicated. A lot of things are complicated.

Your dad finally says yes to the party on Saturday morning. You think he waited this long just see you squirm.

But it’s fine. Everything is going fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry things get worse. thank u for taking the time to read!! feedback is much appreciated especially comments and constructive criticism!! stay tuned ily


	12. monster house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kind of a filler chapter. things go to shit soon so look forward to that lol

You have been to plenty of high school parties before. You’ve decided that you basically like them. People judge others less at parties. You think it’s because there’s some unspoken rule that at a highschool party, everyone has a role to fill.

If you see a guy standing against a wall, brooding like a loner, it’s cool. He is the “Doesn't Want To Be Here, But Was Dragged By A Fun, Rowdy Friend” guy. He’ll lock eyes with either a dancing blonde or a shy brunette, holding a red solo cup across the room. He’ll unexpectedly get laid.

When you see a guy with no pants running across the lawn, it’s cool. He is “Fun, Rowdy Background Character Who Has No Relation To The Fun, Rowdy Friend That Dragged Broody Guy Here,” and he’s alright, he’ll be passed out on a lawn chair in a few scenes.

Yeah, you have high school parties mostly figured out, and you always enjoy them.

At least, you had them figured out in your small town in California.

New York?

No.

This party is, quite possibly, the biggest, loudest, most aggressive, most incredible gathering of young adults you have ever seen.

Incredible. People act like that's a compliment.

It started two blocks ago. You heard the music, first. Immediately, you were terrified.

Someone will bleed.

Then, the cars, which lined the streets and stranger’s driveways quite thoroughly.

By the end of the night, someone. Will. Bleed.

The last thing you saw before you reached the house were the lights. They flashed to the beat of the music.

You could feel it in your teeth.

And now, you stand in front of this house, staring blankly in the middle of the sidewalk. It is a monster.

Nico said he hadn’t planned on staying. You just need to find him.

You climb the porch steps and head in.

Inside, the monster is alive.

You wedge yourself through the warm, wild crowd, keeping an eye out any vaguely familiar faces. Anyone. Anyone.

You fight your way from the first room, which, if you had to guess, was probably once a living room. On your way out, a girl spins in front of you and you screech to a halt.

She wants you to watch her dance, she says. You say okay, but you’re looking for someone. She asks you to watch her.

She’s really good at dancing. You tell her how good she is, and she smiles. She’s pretty.

“Dance with me,” she says.

“I’m looking for someone I know.” You have to shout over the music.

“I’m Drew,” she says. “There. Now you know me.”

She spins and turns and moves her hips. She tosses her hair and reaches for your hand.

Suddenly, you are back in the crowd and you are completely alone, except for Drew, who is holding your hand and dancing, dancing.

You scan the crowd again. Then, reluctantly, you dance.

When Drew is tired, she pulls you back out of the heat and smiles. She still holds your hand.

“You’re a good dancer.”

“You're better.”

That makes her smile. You smile, too.

“I’m thirsty,” Drew says suddenly, pulling you to the next room. Finally.

The kitchen is almost empty, except for Grover Underwood and a girl you think is named Juniper.

“Grover!” You have never been more grateful to see his rasta cap.

He looks away from Juniper and smiles shyly at you. “Hey, man.”

“Have you seen Percy?” you ask him desperately, because you know they hang out, but he seems distracted by Drew’s fingers laced with yours.

His brow furrows a bit, but he doesn't say anything. “Uh, no man, not yet. I’m looking for him, too, though.”

“Well, really, I’m looking for Nico.”

Drew giggles. “Nico’s so emo.”

You smile. “Yeah, I guess. Aren’t you thirsty?”

Drew finally releases your hand and struts to the fridge. She bends by her waist to look inside. Juniper coughs.

Grover walks over to clap his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll text you if I see either of them. You have my number?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Grover nods and heads to the next room, motioning for Juniper to follow him. You and Drew are alone. She stands up straight, holding two beers.

“Finally,” she groans. “I thought they'd never leave us alone. All Grover cares about is attention, he’s so needy.”

You shrug. “Grover is alright.” You shake your head to the beer she offers you.

“Don't drink?”

“No.”

“I don’t think Percy does, either. His step dad was, like, an alcoholic or something.”

“Oh,” you say. You don’t really want to hear this, unless it was coming from Percy. Talking about him this way feels dirty, but Drew doesn't stop.

“Yeah, he like, beat Percy’s mom and stuff, and then one time,” she pauses to crack open and sip her beer, “He beat Percy.”

You stare at her. She stares back.

“And you wanna know what I heard?”

No.

“I heard that Sally Jackson, his mom, killed his step dad. For beating him.”

You look away. “Um.”

“Yeah. No one has seen him since, anyway. What an ass.”

“Yeah… Um, Drew?”

“What's your name?”

You pause. “Will.”

“Will.” You watch her sip her beer. “Will.”

She turns and hops onto the counter, wiggling her hips as she settles. She crosses her legs. Then she says, “You’re pretty.”

You bite your cheek.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she touches her lips with the tips of her fingers, “Guys don’t like hearing that they’re pretty. I mean, you look nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you think I look nice?”

She uncrosses and recrosses her legs, setting her can down, and leans her shoulders back. She does look nice.

“Yes.”

She grins.

“But, um,” you clear your throat. “I’m still looking for someone.”

“For who? For Nico?” Her grin has dropped, but she doesn’t seem upset, exactly.

“Yes.”

“Are you into him?” Her nose wrinkles. “Nico is…”

You sigh and lean to look out the door.

“I mean, he’s cute. He has a nice butt.”

You snap back to attention, your eyes wide. You haven't even thought of Nico’s butt. Not really. You mostly think of his hair, and his eyes, and his baby pink mouth…

Drew keeps talking.

“But he’s so dark. Like, his mom died when he was really little, in a house fire, I think, and then his sister died in some accident, and he’s been super weird and emo ever since. Like, grieving is a process, but it has been years, you know?”

You don’t know what to do with your hands, suddenly. Nico should have been the one to tell you that.

Fucking, Nico should have been the one to tell you that.

“He’s so goth now. And you’re so… not.”

You need her to stop talking. You need her to shut the fuck up. “You don't know me.”

She blinks at you, her beer can forgotten on the counter.

“You don’t know me. You just met me. And you don’t know Grover, and you don’t know Percy, either.”

Her face turns red. She keeps blinking.

“You sure as hell don’t know Nico.” You can feel so much heat in your chest. Your hands tremble. “You don’t know shit about Nico.”

You stop, close your eyes. Deep inhale.

“Like… I mean, if you're so... miserably boring, that you have to talk shit about other people just to have a simple conversation at a party, you need to get a life.”

When you open your eyes again, Drew is standing. Her mascara is clumpy. And you’re not mad at her anymore.

She raises her hand to slap you but doesn't. She just leaves her beer can on the counter and disappears into the monster crowd. You don’t say anything else.

You want to go home.

No. You want Nico. You want both.

Maybe you’ll take Nico home with you tonight. The thought makes you warm all over, but it's different from before.

You check your phone as you walk to the next room. Nothing from Grover yet.

This looks like a dining room, but instead of a dining table, there is a pingpong table. There are a lot of people talking in groups, but they’re hardly familiar.

You see Piper McLean standing with Reyna and want to cry with relief.

“Hey.” You walk up to them and lightly touch Piper’s shoulder. “Have either of you seen Nico? Or Percy?”

Piper smiles but shakes her head. “Sorry, dude.” Reyna checks her phone.

“Nico was texting me earlier. He’s coming, but I believe he may be stalling.”

You sigh. “Alright, thanks.” You would have asked her more, but you get the feeling she and Piper were talking about something kind of serious before you showed up. She looks flustered.

Piper just touches her arm and says something in a low voice.

There's a staircase. You head up, stopping to look at photos of Annabeth and her family. She’s a pretty girl. Nice eyes.

At the top of the stairs, there’s a cooler with more beer, but also soda and water. You take a water and glance down the dark hallway. What do you do until Nico gets here?

There’s an empty bedroom to the right. You step inside to sit down.

You think of Drew and feel bad again. You didn't want to ruin her night.

She kind of deserved it.

But you aren’t the kind of person to actually dish it out. You should apologize. You need to find her and apologize.

And then maybe, finally, Nico will show up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GET READY FOR THE SHITSHOW MY LOVES  
> thank u for reading, comments and criticism are my life blood, i love u all and pls stay tuned


	13. the ex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretend phones don't have silent options

You shouldn't have left your house.

The cell phone in the seat next to you vibrates again. And again. An unknown number has been messaging you all day. You knew who it was right away, and it was initially terrifying, but now it's just grating on your nerves.

At nine this morning, they started rolling in. In just two or three minutes, they started piling up to the point where you couldn't keep up if you wanted to:

Unknown: Guess who

Unknown: We miss you

Unknown: What's wrong?

Unknown: Why are you ignoring me baby?

Unknown: Lol

Unknown: Get it cus I called you baby a lot

Unknown: Remember?

Unknown: I hate it when you ignore me. You know that

Unknown: Answer me. Now. Before I lose my patience

Unknown: Jk but remember when I used to say that and you would start to freak?

Unknown: That was pretty cute tbh

Thirty-eight messages later, you’ve tossed your phone into the bus seat next to you in surrender. It vibrates again. You ignore it again.

You’re not afraid. You’re just annoyed. How fucking childish.

Despite it being so childish, and despite being just annoyed, your heart is pounding and you find yourself absently tugging your bands. How could he have gotten your number again? Why doesn't blocking him ever seem to work? Why today? Why would he decide to harass you today?

You're overthinking again. Breathe.

The bus pulls to a halt, and even though you’re two stops away from where you get off, you grab your phone and decide to walk the rest of the way.

It's almost Halloween and the New York air is biting. You should have worn a heavier coat, but you don't mind the cold. It’s refreshing. You feel your shoulders relax. You didn't even realize how tense you were.

You still should have stayed home.

Annabeth’s house seems bigger every time you see it. The bass of some song you don't know is turned up so overwhelmingly high that the ground trembles. The whole building looks like it’s rocking and swaying.

The inside must be terrifying.

How are you even really supposed to act at parties? This is the first one you’ve been to that's an actual party, and not just a mix of snobby white kids and trailer trash white kids smoking in a circle, pretending they know what the fuck is up.

This is a real party. The type where strangers crash and are celebrated for it.

How the fuck are you going to find Will?

You could go in. That could be a start.

You feel your phone vibrate again, grit your teeth and head inside.

By the time the door closes behind you, you regret ever becoming friends with Percy Jackson, getting a cell phone, waking up this morning and also ever being born. The sea of twisting, thrashing bodies in front of you is neverending. You immediately need an aspirin and a nap.

Alright, enough being a baby. Find Will.

You make it more than halfway through the crowd of strangers just by shoving and spot Percy, holding a cup in each hand and looking slightly lost. He sees you right as you see him, and his face breaks into a broad grin.

“You came!” he cheers, reaching to wrap you in a hug, careful not to spill his drinks. You groan and pretend to go limp.

“I can't believe you actually showed up!”

“Neither can I.”

“Where's your boy?”

“Where's your girl?”

“Uh…” Percy scans the crowd. “That's what I’m trying to find out. She was in here a minute ago.”

He stops and looks you up and down. “Maybe we should go somewhere quieter?”

You nod gratefully. He leads you to the kitchen and sets his cups on the counter. His sea green eyes flick down. “Your phone is lighting up.”

“I know,” you sigh. “It's an ‘Unknown Number’.” Percy’s brow furrows. He scowls just the slightest bit, and you know he gets it.

“Forget it,” you say. “Have you seen Will?”

“No. Sorry, man.”

“It’s fine, I just got here, but…”

“But you want to leave,” he says, smiling softly. You tilt your head and twist your ring.

“No offense.”

“None taken.” He ruffles your hair gently, sighing. “It's not for everybody. It’s not even really for me.”

You raise a brow. “Then why--”

“Annabeth,” Percy says. “She loves stuff like this. Makes her feel important, I think.”

You’re surprised, but you don't comment. It makes sense that she wasn't where Percy left her. She was probably off somewhere being a social butterfly with Piper.

You look down at Percy's cups. “What are you drinking?” He smiles, holding his drink up. “Just Mountain Dew.”

He tilts the cup toward you, showing you the contents. “Baja Blast. It's blue, see?”

You just blink. “That's nice, Percy.”

Leo has asked Percy about his obsession with finding blue food before, but his answers are always vague. You don't even bother.

Grover rushes into the room, out of breath. “There… you are.”

“Yoooo!” Percy greets him. They do their crazy, overly complicated handshake and hug. You look at your boots.

“Will was, um… He was looking for you two.” Percy offers Grover his drink.

“Will?” you repeat hopefully, feeling a smile coming on.

“Yeah,” he says, handing the cup back to Percy and mumbling thank you. “He was with Drew?”

You feel the smile drop and your brow furrow. Percy makes a “Huh?” sound.

“Drew?” you tilt your head again. “I didn't even know he knew Drew…”

Grover shrugs nervously. “It was probably nothing. They were just holding hands.” He winces as soon as he says it. You glance at Percy for help, but he sips at his drink, looking away.

Your phone vibrates.

Fucking. Fuck.

For a second, it's almost like someone just ripped your earbuds out in the middle of your favorite song, and you actually have to close your eyes and take a moment to control your rage. Percy and Grover shift uncomfortably.

But then you're cool. Will was with Drew, but that could mean anything. You're being harassed endlessly by a sociopathic asshole, but it’ll stop eventually. It has to.

This is all a misunderstanding, and you just need to find Will.

“Whatever,” you sigh. “I just need to find him.”

“Piper and Reyna saw him last, I think. They're in there.”

You thank Percy for the invitation. He just smiles and shrugs a little. He and Grover wish you good luck and head back into the crowd.

Piper and Reyna are by the beer pong table, standing close and talking low. You really don't want to interrupt that conversation, so you start to look for someone else, but Reyna catches your eye over Piper’s shoulder and gasps.

“You actually came?” she says. Piper turns to see who she's talking to and raises her brow.

In seconds, you’ve been rushed up the stairs and closed into a room with the two girls. They're both talking fast and mostly over each other, until Reyna gets frustrated and tells Piper she should go find Jason and tell him Nico is here.

Then it's just the two of you. You feel sick for some reason.

“Will was up here,” Reyna says. “But he came back down a minute later.” She touched the end of her braid gently, hesitant to say more. You stare at her.

“I told Piper how I feel,” she says suddenly. You open your mouth, but still end up saying nothing. “She understands, but she is confused herself. I just wanted you to know.”

You blink. “Oh, whoa. Oh my gosh, Reyna…”

“I know.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I needed you to know as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” you say. “And I need you to give me details. Later.”

She smiles. “Can you believe me freshman year? I really thought it was Jason.”

“Yeah. Been there, done that.” You think everyone in your friend group has had some kind of crush on Jason. You had your affection starved two months, then there was Reyna's confusion, and you all still talk about Leo's blunt “Yeah, I'd fuck ‘im.”

Your phone vibrates. “Who's that?” Reyna asks. You furrow your brow. “My drug dealer.” She doesn't laugh.

“You're not even going to check? It could be Will.”

You just shrug. You know it isn't. Reyna’s frown deepens, but you just get up to go back downstairs.

She doesn't follow you. “I’m going to wait. For Piper.”

You can tell she's nervous, but she can also tell you're nervous, and neither of you can offer any real comfort. You settle for a squeeze on the knee.

As you reach the last step, you see something bright gold slip through a doorway. You nearly gasp out loud. Finally.

Your phone vibrates.

It's cool, it's all cool. Just play it cool.

How do you even do that, actually? Like, what the hell does that even mean?

Yes, it's him. At some point you walked into the room and you can just see him over the small crowd of people, barely hear him talking over the shitty, blasting stereo.

All you know is that you aren't suppose to try too hard. Or, would that be trying too hard to not try too hard?

Shit, now Will is looking at you.

Just turn around and walk back out.

Smooth as fuck.

Seriously. That was the sexiest thing you could have done in that moment. Go Nico.

Your phone vibrates, and now you know for sure it isn't him. You take it out of your pocket, clutch it tight in your hand, want to throw it, want to throw it--

It vibrates.

“Hey!” Will touches your shoulder lightly. “There you are! Dude, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where are you going?”

“Hey, sorry,” you say, and reach up to hug him around the neck. “I just… got nervous.”

“Over what? Little ol’ me?” He touches the small of your back.

You feel so much better.

“Can we please get the fuck out of here?” you mutter into his shoulder. He goes, “Mmhmm.” He waits for you to let go.

Finally.

“Where do you want to go?”

“God, I don't know. To get takeout. Home.”

He smiles and reminds you that he is the sun.

Drew Tanaka can eat her heart out, wherever she is.

You twist your ring with your thumb. He twists his mouth to bite his cheek. “What?” he laughs. You shrug. “You look goofy.” He shoves your shoulder a little. “Rude.”

And your phone vibrates.

And maybe you aren't thinking about it because you're on a Will-related high, or for some reason you feel safer because Will is here.

You slide it open.

Unknown: Her name was Annabeth right? Anyway, I'm here

You drop the phone. It bounces once on the hardwood, cracks in the corner. Will blinks at it.

“You--”

You lift your boot and bring it down. Will jumps back, along with one or two other guests. You stomp it again, and again, like destroying it will make this less real. You should have stayed home.

Will grabs your shoulders. “Are you listening? You have to stop!”

You grab his hand and start for the living room. “Nico, who was that? What's going on?”

“C’mon, we gotta go.”

“Dude!” Will yanks your arm and spins you around to face him.

You don’t know what to tell him. You just stare. Over his shoulder, you can see Piper by the stairs, watching you. She's worried. You glance around at the rest of the room. People you've never seen before are looking at you, concerned. Someone has their phone out.

“Don’t pay attention to them. Look at me.”

Will is using your favorite voice so only you can hear. You want to die a little less. You look at him. His blue eyes are wide.

“Do you want to tell me what's going on?”

“We have to go.”

“Okay,” he starts moving into the kitchen to get to the living room. “Wanna tell me why?”

“Uh… Not… Really?”

Will gives you a look over his shoulder as you walk past the counter. You shrug hopelessly.

“Okay, so, there's this guy,” you have to speak up over the music. “And we--”

Pause.

You stop in your tracks. Will stops, too, searching your face. Just as you crossed the threshold into the raving living room, the front door swung open and more people rushed in. You didn't realize it until now.

And there he is.

“Back door,” you say.

“I’m sorry?”

“Back door, back door, back door, back door…” You snatch Will's hand and take off, and thankfully, he doesn't ask any questions this time. Not until you have your hand on the handle of the screen door.

“Was it him? The guy?”

You hop over the back porch, run through the backyard, and jump up at the wood fence that separates Annabeth’s property from the dirt road behind it.

“Whoa, wait,” Will says. You hoist yourself up, throw one leg over the side and stare down at him.

“What?”

Will blushes. “I've never hopped a fence before.”

You blink. Well, shit.

You hop back down. You'll have to sneak through the front. “Okay, follow me.”

“Wait, who are we even running from?”

“A… A guy.”

“Do you owe him money?”

“What?”

“Are you on drugs?”

“What? No. No! He's not…” you close your eyes and twist your ring with your thumb. “We don't have time for this.”

Will scoffs. “Just tell me who he is!”

“An ex!”

Will blinks.

You throw your hands up. “He’s an ex, and he's fucking insane, and he's here!”

“You're willing to hop a fence over an ex?”

You shrug. “He wants to beat the shit out of me, Will.”

He looks you up and down, then glances at the fence. “Details. Later. How do I hop this?”

Gratefully, you show him the slow version, as step-by-step as you can get. You land on your feet on the other side. He lands on his ass.

Immediately feeling safer, you let yourself laugh at him. He shoots you a glare, but he laughs a little, too. “Where to next?” he asks as you pull him up.

You hear the screen door slam. You and Will both freeze.

A mix of Percy, Jason and Annabeth’s voices fill the air. Will whispers, “Does your ex know how to hop a fence?”

“You're in New York, Will,” you say, grabbing his hand. “Everyone knows how to hop a fence.”

Then you run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoever knows who the ex is and can guess why he hates nico gets a sticker
> 
> thank u so much for reading!! comments criticism and corrections are my life blood pls stay tuned and ily
> 
> also i'm sorry


	14. none of it hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck  
> shit  
> it's 2am

You don't stop running.

You don’t let go of Will’s hand, either.

Honestly, you’re just happy he manages to keep up, because if he had tripped or something you still don't think you would have stopped running.

You don't look back even once. You don't stop to catch your breath. You run for a long time.

Will eventually yanks your arm and spins you to a halt. You blink at him as he bends over, resting his hands on his knees.

“Do… all New Yorkers run… like that, too?” he pants out, annoyed. You offer a small smile, a little out of breath yourself.

“Just the poor ones…”

He shakes his head at you. “I want to throw up… Are you even sweating?!”

You shrug. “Sure, a little. But, y’know, it's cold--”

“Fuck you, Nico di Angelo.” Will slowly stands up straight. “Fuck you, and start wearing coats.”

“I wear coats,” you argue. “I have a really nice vintage aviator jacket back home.”

“Shit ton of good it does you there.”

You glance around but see no one suspicious. He hadn't been chasing you for blocks. He probably never was.

“I was planning on running all the way home, but…” You check your surroundings one more time. “I guess we probably don't have to.” You're not entirely at ease, but it's dark and you're tired.

“Thank fuck,” Will says, still red and panting.

“Alright, that's enough, potty mouth. I don’t care how grumpy you are.”

He rolls his eyes. “Like you're one to talk. Where are we?”

“A few blocks away from my house. I was gonna get McDonald's, you want in?”

“Ugh. No thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” You're still going to try to find him something to eat on the way to your place, but for now you just wait for him to recollect himself and mourn the loss of your phone.

You did that, ADHD and anxiety combo.

How do you explain this to your dad? He must be so tired of this by now.

You remind yourself that you don't care how he feels, but you don't believe it. He's trying, your brain mutters. At least he's trying.

He needs to try harder, you whine back.

Not everyone can try as hard as your mother, Nico.

You shiver.

“Aha!” Will says. “See? Coat.”

McDonald's has a Seven Eleven across the street from it, and Will goes in and buys an Arizona and two packs of sunflower seeds. You walk and eat in silence for a few minutes.

Then Will asks, “Where did you say we're going?”

You shrug. “Just my place.”

He raises his eyebrows. You raise yours, too.

“Oh,” he says softly. You shrug again. “I could take you home.”

“No,” he says. “This is fine.”

You're quiet again.

“Don't make it weird,” you say. Will clears his throat.

You bound up your stone porch steps and try to ignore Will staring at the back of your neck. You give up almost right away and glare at him over your shoulder. He quickly turns his gaze upwards instead, focusing on your house.

It’s nothing interesting--one of those slim, rickety two story homes squished between two more just like it.

As soon as you take out your keys and step toward the knob, you can hear Cerberus fumbling down the stairs inside. You turn to Will and press your finger to your lips. He looks confused, but he nods.

You slip your key into the lock and hear Cerberus shift excitedly, thumping his stub tail against the hardwood. Realization floods Will's face like a tidal wave.

“Big dog?” he mouths. You feel yourself grin as you nod. Then you swing open the door.

Cerberus is a little taller than you when he puts his front paws on your shoulders. Will takes this in with wide eyes from where he's perched on your porch railing, sucking his teeth. You laugh out loud as your dog licks a cowlick into your hair.

“That's a horse, not a dog!” Will whisper-screams.

“He’s a pretty boy,” you correct him softly, scratching the great Dane’s sides.

Cerberus seems to notice Will for the first time and jumps down from his puppy hug. Will makes a squeaking noise as he comes closer, sniffling his clothes and occasionally grunting, like he wants to bark but knows he shouldn’t. You hold his collar, just in case. Then, cautiously, Cerberus licks Will’s clenched fist.

Will gasps, grinning.

After leading him (and Cerberus) through the house and up the stairs as quietly as possible, you close your bedroom door with a sigh of relief. Hazel and Frank were having a movie night at Frank’s place tonight, but you can hear your father breathing slowly from his room, taking a nap before work.

“Wow.”

Will spins in a slow circle in the center of your tiny room, taking in the posters on the walls and bookshelves full of trinkets.

You tug at a piercing in your ear. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Excuse the mess.”

“What? Oh, whatever. I was just thinking that this is very…” he twists his mouth as he stares at the little desk in the corner.

“Very ‘you’.”

Your face warms as you shrug. Then you switch the lights out. Will jumps in the darkness. “What are you…?”

You lean over the other side of your bed and plug in the pale blue fairy lights circling your room, like comets stopped in time. Will stares, silent, as you get comfortable on your bed with your McDonald's bag.

After eating a few fries, you realize it's not the lights he’s staring at.

“What?” you sputter.

“Nothing,” he says, breathless. “Nothing.”

He sits crisscross applesauce across from you, popping seeds into his mouth and staring.

He's waiting.

“So, um.”

He raises his eyebrows a little. You look away, rubbing your arm through your hoodie. “Wanna see my aviator jacket?”

Will picks at the rip in the thigh of your jeans. “Maybe later,” he says, “After you tell me what happened.”

You don’t move.

“You don't have to,” he adds.

You shake your head. “I want to.” You need to.

You listen through the thin walls of your home to your father’s gentle breathing down the hall, try to match his pace. Will waits.

Cerberus sits quietly in the corner, his heavy head between his paws.

You close your eyes and think.

“When I was twelve,” you say carefully, “Bianca was eighteen. And we, uh, lived in this--this little, one bedroom apartment. We shared a mattress. We shared everything.”

When you open your eyes, you don't look at Will; you only look over his head at the lights. “She worked at Artemis’ for a little while. She made a lot of friends there and started staying out later. But she always came home. Always.” The periwinkle light bulb begins to give you a headache, but you don't look away. Will’s fingers continue to pull at the rip on your thigh.

“And then,” you say slowly, “She didn't come home. She didn't come home at the end of her shift, so I figured she went out with some friends and forgot to call, you know?”

The light is blinding. You don't blink.

“She didn't come home at the end of the night, either. And, uh, then someone came to our apartment and made me leave. It was 3:38 AM, I remember. I remember riding in the back of a police car, which I thought was wicked. I remember that everyone was quiet, so I was afraid to speak.”

Even when you look away from the light, now, it stays burned in your eyes, so you close them again. “Bianca had been driving a sick friend home. Her name was Zoe. She was cool.” You can almost see their faces, Blanca’s warm, gentle smile and Zoe’s hard, honey brown eyes. You can see them laughing.

“And it was late. And, um, they got in a pretty nasty crash. Zoe died on the way to the hospital. Bianca died on impact.”

Will's fingers freeze. You don't open your eyes.

“So then,” you continue, “My dad comes out of nowhere and swoops me up. While he was absent from me and Bianca, he was taking care of another family. Hazel’s. And so we all sort of just…” you lace your fingers together. “You know?”

Will is quiet, but his fingers rub circles into your thigh. You hear him crack a few more seeds open with his teeth.

“Hazel’s mom is away right now. She's not very well. Not fit to have kids around. So we all live together. And then I met all of Hazel's friends, and they became my friends, and then we started going to high school, and…” you stop and open your eyes. Will has his chin on his freckled fist, his lips parted just slightly, his blue eyes wide. You don't know where to look, so you look at your dog, dozing in the corner.

“Freshman year was really bad. Like, really bad for me. I had this crush on Percy? But he wanted Annabeth? And I was missing Bianca more than I had in a long time, and my friends were all so worried about me. I really just wanted to avoid everyone. I started hanging out with people I didn't really know. People I thought were the biggest badasses. People like Octavian.”

You look Will in the eye.

“People like Bryce.”

He was a junior at the time. You didn't know anyone like him. He had dark, dark green eyes that were nothing like Percy's and a sneer that made you wince. He was mean. His knuckles were always bruised and his hands could almost swallow yours up. He kissed like he punched. At first you thought that he liked it rough. You realized too late that he was just rough in general.

One time, you found a dead cat in his backyard. One time, you were afraid you were going to be the cat.

“I dated him for four months, if you could call it dating,” you say, ashamed. “And then we got into a fight. I cut him across the face, with this.” You pull your switch out of your boot, flick open the black blade. “He and Octavian never let it go. They came after my friends. They set Leo’s van on fire. They could have killed him.”

You flip the blade around your hand a few times. Then you lose interest, close it and drop it on the bed.

Will stays completely silent.

“I don't know,” you say, shrugging shakily, refusing to cry. “I was just… so… I was so desperate. I wanted someone so badly. So badly. And then he just… he wanted me! Somebody wanted me! I don't know, I don’t…” You cover your face with your hands.

It's so quiet.

And then there's a rustling sound as Will pushes the paper McDonald's bag away, the clatter of your switch on the hardwood, a creaking in your mattress as he leans forward. You feel his hands, light on your shoulders as he pulls you into him.

His hand is warm and soft on your wrist when he tugs it from your face. Then he just holds your fingers gently. You rest your head on his shoulder. He rests his chin on your head.

And all of it is nice, and none of it hurts.

You think that's what really makes you cry.

And while you're curled in his lap, surrounded by the pale glow of your fairy lights, you think Will cries too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i aged up bianca  
> also nico is ooc i guess  
> anyway i'm sorry
> 
> THANK UP FOR READING!! comments, criticism and corrections are truly appreciated so don't be shy to give me feedback!! ily and i hope u stay tuned bye


	15. in which will is conflicted, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor boy doesn't know what he's doing  
> credit for this chapter goes to ao3 user areographer (redpixelamps)!! they helped me come up with an idea on how to approach this. also just a totally rad person in general  
> also their writing is the bomb (dot) com so go and check them out

It's almost seven when you wake up and realize that you can't feel your arm. You try to move it and find that it's much heavier than you remember.

You open your eyes.

You have no idea where you are.

You almost panic before the memories of the night before flood your brain. You blink as you look around the dim room, almost not realizing that your arm is heavy and numb because of Nico, his head on your chest.

Nice.

There are dried tears on your face.

Not nice.

So much happened last night. Too much. Your body is sore from all the running you did, your brain is sore from having not one, but two conversations with Drew, and your heart is sore for Nico.

You want to make him happy, really happy. He deserves to be happy.

You still don't know exactly why things went to shit between him and this Bryce dick, but you want to help him. You need to help him.

Maybe you could help each other.

You close your eyes. Slow down there, partner.

It would be seriously messed up of you to dump all your shit on Nico right after he opened up to you. You need to take care of him first.

You make a promise to yourself then: he should always come first.

Nico sighs on your chest and rolls a bit, relieving your arm just slightly. You gently shift out from under him, careful not to wake him up. Then, for a minute, you just stand there like a creep, not wanting to leave but not sure how you could stay, either.

You sigh and sit down on the floor. You don't want to leave Nico hanging, you think as you begin pulling on your sneakers.

Maybe you could write him a note?

You could just text him.

You let yourself glance at his face. He looks younger when he sleeps somehow, which makes you kind of sad. He and Bianca must have grown up so fast, all alone.

He deserves to know you.

You don't want to trouble him.

He deserves to know.

Is the text thing insensitive? Maybe a note is okay.

Oh, he doesn’t have a phone anymore. Texting him wouldn’t work...

You're still wondering what exactly to do as you pull open his bedroom door, not expecting it to creak as loudly as it does. You suck your teeth, cringing.

Nico doesn't stir.

You don't even have a chance to be relieved before his monster on steroids starts barking from the corner.

“Whoa!” you manage before the dog leaps up onto the bed, barking and snarling.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Nico shouts, slinging his arms around the dog’s neck. “Easy! Easy, Cerberus, easy!”

Cerberus stops barking, but stays in his stance on Nico’s bed, growling lowly.

You stand there awkwardly, your hands up like the kid from How to Train Your Dragon, lowkey ready to punch a dog in the face.

“It’s just Will, C. It's just Will,” Nico says quietly, his eyes surprisingly steady for someone who was just woken up by a vicious beast from Hell.

“It’s Will from last night, remember?”

“Yeah, Cerberus,” you say with an embarrassingly shaky smile. “I thought what we had was special.”

Nico pulls the dog down by his neck. He begrudgingly complies, settling his head on the pillow you just slept on.

There’s a weird pause. Nico rubs one eye and stares at you with the other.

“Morning,” he says.

A man bursts into the room, inexplicably holding a closed black umbrella like a katana, hitting your knee with the door.

“What's happening?!” he screams.

You and Nico also scream. The man screams in response.

Then you all kind of just stare at each other.

“Jesus, shit,” Nico says, flopping back down.

“Who is this?” the man says, relatively pleasantly.

Hazel dashes into the room yelling a war cry, the pointed end of a paintbrush in her hand. Everyone screams.

Four minutes later, you're all in downstairs in the kitchen, sharing a box of cereal. The has man introduced himself as Nico’s father. Hazel has pulled two chairs from the living room room to sit in; one for her, one for you. You feel like it would be rude to ask where their table is.

Instead, you watch in silence as their strange family portrait comes together. The way they interact makes it seem like there are more people in the room.

“Were you really going to slay my attacker with an umbrella?”

“Be happy I came at all.”

“Nico, Cerberus is begging.”

“Ah ah! Leave Hazel alone!”

“Did you finish the juice and not say anything? Again, Hazel, really?”

“Sorry…”

“Dad, I can't reach the Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

“Frosted Flakes?”

“I’m tired of those, and they aren't good without milk.”

Mr. di Angelo reaches over Nico’s head for the box, asking over his shoulder, “Will, do you want some?”

You feel oddly like you've been caught doing something bad.

“Uh, no, no thank you, sir.”

“Sir,” he smiles, nudging Nico. “You don't call me sir.”

Nico snatches the box from him. “Thanks, sir.”

“I don't like the way you say it.”

Mr. di Angelo turns his gaze back to you, rubbing his unshaved chin.

“So,” he says nonchalantly, “What were you doing in my son's room, presumably overnight?”

Talking about feelings.

“Uh.” You look at your untied shoelaces.

Nico rolls his eyes. “Jeez, Dad, get your head out of the gutter.”

“What?” he says innocently. “If he was really up there all night, well…”

“I’m calling Child Services.”

“Good. Maybe they'll take you away.”

You look up when he says this, expecting tension, but there is none. Mr. di Angelo uses his thumb to brush Cinnamon Toast Crunch sparkles from Nico’s cheek, and Nico lets him.

He’s strong, you think. It wouldn't hurt if you told him some things. It's not like what you went through is worse than what happened to him.

Hazel passes you the box of Frosted Flakes, and again, you feel as if you’ve been caught, like just thinking about opening up to Nico is dirty. You find that you are quickly losing your appetite.

Nico sits cross-legged on the counter, next to your chair. “Did you go to work last night?”

His father shakes his head. Nico’s brow furrows as Mr. di Angelo leans forward to mutter something in his ear. What you can hear is in another language that you think is Italian.

Nico answers him softly, worriedly, in the same language.

It's beautiful.

He's beautiful.

It would hurt him more if you didn't tell him. He told you his deal, and he deserves to know what happened, the whole reason you're here.

“I hate it when they do that,” Hazel whispers to you, adjusting the wrap around her hair and pointing at the conversation in Italian. “They know I can't understand.”

“Yeah,” you say, but you don’t mind so much. You like listening to Nico’s worried chatter, the way his tongue flips around vowels and glides over words, blending them all together.

You have to wonder what he's saying. How can he seem so distressed when there is raw sugar rolling from his lips?

Bleh. Focus, Will.

Nico is so troubled already. You don't want to burden him. You can't.

“Will? You leaving?”

You look up at Nico’s sleepy face, and you know you can't vent at him. Not now, not here.

Well, obviously. You’re in his kitchen with his father and little sister, holding a box of dry cereal. But not so soon.

“Oh, yeah, I guess.”

He hops down from his spot to lead you out the front door. You give Hazel and Mr. di Angelo a little awkward wave and follow him as quickly as possible. You’d never admit it out loud, but his father is a little scary.

Nico stands on his front porch with you, watching New York City wake up.

“That was…” he whistles lightly. “An interesting way to start the day.”

You cringe. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Yeah, totally blaming you.” He rocks on his heels a little. “But,” he says, “it was also a pretty good morning. We don't usually all get along so well.”

He smiles lightly. “I think I blame you for that, too.”

You want to brush his hair back from his cheek, but you jam your hands in your pockets instead.

“Can't wait to tell my dad about my phone,” Nico mutters, and you laugh.

“He’ll understand, won't he?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “He only understands what he wants to.”

Before you can ask what he means, Nico tilts his head slightly, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You bite your cheek. “What do you mean?”

“You’re quiet.”

You shrug. “I’m thinking.”

Nico doesn't answer for a moment, and you don't look at him.

“Hey…” he says hesitantly, “I’m… sorry about last night. I didn't mean to, like…”

You shake your head. “No, no, it's not that.”

You realize, suddenly, that you're frightening him. You turn and look at him, take in the way he stares at the pavement, the way he itches at his wrist for his rubber bands.

Without thinking, you reach out and touch his elbow. He looks up through his lashes but doesn't raise his head, and you feel awful.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, shrugging one shoulder.

“For what?” you say quietly, pulling him a little closer.

He would want to know everything.

Not here.

Not now.

You pull him into you until you can wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his neck, humming. Then you just stand there for a while. Slowly, he settles, curling his fingers into the collar of your shirt.

“Remember that time,” you say, your voice muffled by his hoodie, “a few weeks ago, when I said I wanted to kiss you?”

“Yeah?” he says.

“Yeah,” you say.

He shakes his head, but you know he's smiling.

This Bryce asshole can eat his heart out.

“Alright, that's enough,” he says simply, pushing you away. “You got your cell phone? Bus card?”

“No,” you say, “I pay fare.”

Nico scowls. “Fuck you. Oh! And stay away from Drew Tanaka!”

You laugh (a little nervously), wondering partially how he knew about Drew, and partially how the hell this all happened so fast. You only met Nico a few weeks ago.

You keep laughing, but the realization hits you hard. As much as you want to, you can’t spill your guts to a boy you just met, and especially not this boy. This beautiful boy. Who you want to kiss very badly. And maybe pull his hair, maybe. And touch his butt, a little, maybe.

Focus.

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

He leans forward to press a kiss on the left side of your jaw, just like last time. Your world sways and your eyes slip shut like he’s kissing you for real. Then he’s gone, slipped back inside and shut the door with a click. You touch the invisible imprint he left gingerly, thinking about Drew for a moment and how strange it was that she ever said anything bad about this boy.

Then you think about everything that happened back home.

What would your mother say? What would she think of this strange little tornado of a boy? Would she even care about how much you liked him? How much he seems to like you?

You want to explain everything to Nico--how scary and surreal this all feels, how you hate yourself a little because of it, how hard this is for you. He seems so at peace with this part of himself. His father doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. Everyone around him seems to just understand.

And then there’s you.

You want Nico, and you want to know Nico, but you’re scared. You’re so scared. How can you explain something like that?

How do you tell someone that you’re afraid of loving them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mean like  
> whatever right
> 
> thank you for reading, please let me know if i have made any mistakes!! comments, criticism and corrections are very much appreciated. ily all please stay tuned!!


	16. got it bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BC PEOPLE IN THE COMMENTS WERE CONFUSED:  
> basically will asks cecil to do him a dangerous solid, because he wants to help nico and his friends. cecil doesn't like it, bc why put yourself in danger for someone you barely know?  
> reyna wants to FIGHT  
> and kayla tells will to call his mom, and he lowkey wants to call his mom, bc honestly how bad could it be to just call his mom? but then he remember how shitty his mom was being, and feels weird about it
> 
> THANK YOU ALL FOR HELPING ME OUT and if there is anything else that was like ???? pls let me know!! love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait school started and  
> you know how it is  
> anyway here's some garbage i found on the highway

Kayla and Austin aren't very good at texting back.

You know that not a lot of people keep in touch with childhood friends after moving away, but you three have been best friends since Pre-K, all the way to this year of high school.

It isn't like you only talk about yourself. Sure, you give them little updates on school, on your dad, on Nico, on the shop and the people who work there, but you also ask about things back home. You ask Kayla about her archery classes and what hair color she might try next. You ask Austin about his mom and his music, and how his YouTube channel is doing.

Every once in awhile, you ask them to check up on your mother for you.

But they never seem to reply anymore.

Not even when you send selfies with Lou Ellen, who they declared to be a Mega Hottie.

You frown at your phone after double texting Austin for what feels like the billionth time. You can get wanting alone time, but it's been weeks.

You huff and toss your phone onto your bed, where Cecil lay napping. You have too much on your mind to talk to them about stupid stuff like YouTube and hair dye anyway. At least you're trying.

You sigh and close your eyes. You heard that the party on Saturday was short-lived after you and Nico left. Reyna told you at lunch today that about half an hour later, Annabeth shut the whole thing down and practically evacuated the place.

“And you know why that is, don't you?” she’d asked, drumming her fingers on the table. You focused on poking at your tray with your spork, shrugging.

“Nico left with you, right, Will?”

“Yeah,” you said.

She was quiet for a moment. You still didn't look up.

“Piper said Nico sort of… panicked.”

You shrugged again.

“I’m sorry about all this,” she finished.

You remember shivering as you realized that by stepping into Nico’s life, you made yourself apart of a rivalry, a fight that you had no involvement in starting, and it was unexpectedly far from being over.

You finally looked up at Reyna and saw it in her face; she was already planning the next move.

You snap back to reality at the sound of Cecil groaning and rolling over.

“Hey,” you say. He doesn't answer.

You stand. “Hey, get up.”

He tugs your pillow over his head.

“Cecil…” you bend and pick up a fairly heavy shoe, “Get up!” You whip it into his back. He yelps and jumps, falling out of the bed and bringing your covers down with him.

He glares at you from the other side of the mattress. “Will, what the fuck?”

“I think… I need you to do me a favor.”

He narrows his eyes, but he doesn't turn you down, so you keep talking.

“There’s a couple of guys who used to go my school, Octavian and Bryce. Do you know them?”

Cecil blinks slowly. “I know of them. Lou Ellen might have brought them up.”

“Do you have any idea where they go now?”

He scoffs. “No.”

“Can you find out?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Please,” you say.

“Will, if you really think those guys didn't drop out the first chance they got…” he stands up and tosses your covers back onto your bed. “Then you are shit out of luck.”

He picks up the shoe and crosses the room to give it to you.

You ignore it. “Then can you find out where they live, or hang out or something?”

Cecil stares at you quizzically, dropping the shoe to the ground. “Are we talking about the same people? Why are you actually looking for those guys?”

“I just…” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “I think they're gonna do something. Try something. Big.”

“Okay,” Cecil says, “So stay out of the blast zone! Right?”

“Wrong,” you say, “I think I’m part of the blast zone now.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean--I mean, Nico and his friends…” you don't know how to finish that sentence.

Cecil keeps looking at you curiously, his eyebrows knitting together. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Will,” Cecil says.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Are you sure that it’s safe to be with someone--”

“Please don’t.”

His face doesn’t change. You close your eyes and shake your head.

Cecil sighs. “Okay,” he says softly.

“Thanks.” You don’t look him in the eye. “Thank you, C.”

He doesn't respond. He just looks at you a little longer. Then, right as you open your mouth to say something else, he turns on his heel and starts moving for the door.

“What do you even plan on doing when you find them?” he asks as he walks away.

You stare at his back. “I don't know.”

Cecil glances over his shoulder at you one more time, his hand on the doorknob, a look of pity on his face.

“You got it bad, Will.”

Then he’s gone, his soft laughter echoing back up the stairwell.

He’s right, of course. You got it bad.

Your phone lights up on the bed, and for a hopeful instant, you think it might be Nico. But you remember what he did to his phone and the instant is gone.

It’s Kayla.

Little Sis: Hey, sorry. Your mom wants you to call btw

Little Sis: Gtg, Skype soon

You glare at the screen, biting your cheek. “Skype soon” has been Kayla's way of saying “goodbye” for almost a month. You haven’t expected an actual call for a while now.

Then you bite a little harder.

Deep breaths, Will.

What could it hurt to just call? How bad could it be?

You miss her. It’s time to stop pretending that you don't miss her.

You scroll through your messages, looking for her contact photo. Most of your contacts don't have photos. Her's is an old, old picture of her with full face makeup, doing a double chin. You stole it from Facebook. It used to make you both laugh so much.

You tap it without even really looking at it.

You look at the last message she sent you, collecting dust in your inbox.

Mom: I’m parked on the other side. I got pizza rolls.

You stare at it, trying to laugh.

You can't. It’s from over a month ago, the day before you came out to her.

You can't understand how she could love you so much, smooth your hair and give you kisses, and then just.

Just.

You find you’ve bitten your cheek too hard and suddenly taste blood on your tongue. You let your hand drop to your waist, let the phone slip from your palm and clatter on the floor.

If she wants to talk all of a sudden, then she’ll have to call you.

She will have to call you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> already working on the next chapter bc i feel bad about the wait still hah a  
> feedback is always, always great especially comments and critique (and any corrections you may have)  
> thank you so much for reading and stay tuned!!


	17. a head filled with moths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love hurting fictional children

Halloween is rainy and cold and gray.

This year you (devastatingly) can't make a very big deal of it. Your father tells you in Italian, that one Sunday morning you had Will over, that he and many of his co-workers lost their jobs three days before. You ask why he didn't tell you sooner. He glances at Will and says he was afraid.

Hazel and Piper weep for the matching costumes they had planned.

You offer one night to get a job again, but your father shakes his head, muttering into your hair that he’ll figure it out.

So now you stare at the rain rolling down the window of Leo’s van in completely normal clothing. He’s wearing an orange shirt and black jeans, which is less festive than usual.

“Thanks for picking me up this morning,” you say, not turning from the window.

“Sure, baby.”

“You seem out of it.”

“Eh.”

You turn to face him. “You okay?”

Leo’s face, for once, seems very serious. Sometimes you can tell his grins are forced, but usually they are completely genuine, so seeing him so solemn is unsettling.

“I got a bad feeling about this concert.”

You furrow your brow. “Like we're not ready? We still have a lot of time.”

Leo’s expression stays vacant, but his eyes narrow just slightly as he watches the road.

“I know you’ve seen Octavian around, too.”

You blink at him, shocked, but there's no point in hiding it. “You’ve run into him?”

Leo nods.

“I thought he blew town…”

Leo nods again.

“He says he wants to go to the concert.”

He nods again.

You shift in you seat, curling up until your knees hit your chest.

“Listen…” You twist your ring with your thumb. “I still… I’m sorry for what--”

“Stop.”

You stare at the side of his face. He doesn’t say anything else.

Neither do you.

You put your feet on the dashboard and he swats them off, muttering about how filthy your boots are. But now he smiles a little.

Piper and Annabeth are standing at the entrance of the auditorium when you and Leo arrive, standing close and talking low. Everyone is acting shifty and skittish so far this week, and you know it's leftover caution from Bryce paying a visit on Saturday. Even Will was tense yesterday, and he never even met Bryce.

He held your hand under the desk the entire period. While you walked him to art, he slipped his hand into your hoodie pocket.

You kissed his jaw again. He seems to like that.

Piper’s voice brings you back to the present. “Happy Halloween,” she says, placing a candy in your hand.

“Oh,” you say, almost forgetting already. “Yeah, thanks.”

“What do you think?” She gives a little twirl and you look her up and down.

“Are you… What, a cowboy?”

“Cowgirl. Pretty good for last second, huh?”

Leo nods, “You killed it once again, Beauty Queen. Unlike the rest of us, dressed like normal people.”

Piper wrinkles her nose at him, her eyes glittering. “Annabeth is dressed up, too. So bleh!” She sticks out her tongue as you examine Annabeth, who has her palm over her eyes.

She's wearing black ankle boots, blue jeans, a white collared shirt, and a red scarf tied around her waist like a belt.

It looks like a normal outfit, definitely something she’d wear, minus the scarf.

“I don't get it,” you say.

“I'm Prince Eric,” she deadpans, her hand still hiding her eyes.

You blink at her.

“From The Little Mermaid.”

“Oh,” you say.

After a moment, she says, “It’ll make more sense when Percy gets here.”

You hadn’t asked, but you say “Oh” again, just to be polite.

Piper brings up Hazel's absence.

“Oh, she’s coming with Frank. He asked her a favor this morning, some art thing.”

“I like art things,” Piper says, and you can tell she's trying too hard to be excited.

Halloween is her favorite holiday. Yours, too. Nobody is talking about it, but you know deep down that it’s sort of ruined. Brace and Octavian ruined it.

You ruined it, too. Indirectly, but that still counts. There's no way you could have seen this coming, but you are too good at blaming yourself for shit to ignore this one.

It would be less sad if they just acknowledged it. That this pathetic excuse for a holiday is hardly a Halloween. You decide before your first period even starts that you're probably not going to finish the school day.

Maybe you’ll disappear again. It's been a while.

Blofis would be upset. And Reyna. You wonder for a second how Will would react. He would probably be really worried. But then you think about how beautiful Will is, and how easy it would be for someone, anyone to comfort him. Drew Tanaka.

Will would probably be okay.

You think about his soft, breezy voice. Then you push it back as quickly as you can. You’d like to run away, and running away doesn't really work when all you can think about is home.

Hm. Will. Home.

Hmm.

You sing as loud as you can first period, but the instructor still motions to you raise your voice every so often. You snap at your rubber bands and he stops the whole class to lecture you on “professional posture and stance.” You can feel you face getting more and more red. Your whole head feels like it's buzzing, like it's filled with bees.

Leo and Piper pretend not to notice.

You ignore Annabeth in Trig. She keeps looking at you from across the aisle, trying to at least get you to look back at her too, but you don't want to.

You don't want to look at her perfect, pretty, tan-in-goddamn-October face right now.

The Little Mermaid. Fuck them, honestly.

You nod to Frank in the hallway, noting that the “art thing” was probably Hazel painting his face like a tiger. It’s cute.

At lunch, Jason looks completely normal. He’s wearing a blue button down.

“No costume?” you tease him.

“I wouldn't say that.” He smiles crookedly at you, raising one eyebrow.

You tilt your head at him, raising an eyebrow back.

“Wait for Leo to get here. You guys will love this.”

His blue eyes flick to something over your shoulder and his face blanks.

“Percy… Is that a dress?”

You spin on the bench. Percy is posing dramatically for you, his hip popped, one hand in his hair, the other on his bare waist.

“It's a skirt, actually,” he says.

He’s right. It’s a skirt. A long, bright, shimmery green skirt. It’s form-fitting and sort of flares at the bottom.

A mermaid skirt. You don't know if you should laugh or groan. You sort of do both.

He’s wearing a purple crop top. It has seashells drawn on it in sharpie.

He is also holding a fork.

Unbelievable.

“Hey! Nico’s digging it! I see you, baby!”

You just shake your head in astonishment and he struts to sit between you and Jason.

Leo shows up a second later, dumping candy on the table from a plastic grocery bag.

“Soup’s on,” he says.

You don’t bother to ask how he got it. You look at Jason. “So?”

He pauses in shoving a Twix bar down his throat. “What? Oh!”

He stands up. “This isn't my costume,” he says, gesturing to his outfit.

“Obviously,” you say.

“It’s a disguise.”

The three of you stare blankly at him. He winks at Leo, who cracks a little grin.

“Mild mannered Jason Grace by day,” he says, taking off his glasses and tossing them to you.

You start to get it. You feel yourself smile.

“But by night!” He he opens his first three buttons, revealing--

“SUPERMAN!”

All four of you shout it at the same time. Leo bursts into laughter, slapping the table. Percy raises his Baja Blast soda can to him. “Props,” he nods.

The rest of the room seems a little annoyed with you, but you don't really care too much. At least two people tried this Halloween.

But then, they're Percy and Jason. It's their job to try. You try to tell yourself that it still counts. Everyone else seems to think it counts. But your brain is being a douche. It buzzes like it's filled with bees.

Lazy bees.

Maybe more like moths?

A head full of moths.

This hardly counts, they say.

You leave early to go to Writing. Will isn't there yet, and you’re not sure if you're happy about that.

Blofis’s desk is also empty. You could leave. You could disappear.

It won't help.

“It usually does,” you say out loud. The empty room echoes.

Does it, really?

“It makes me feel better.”

Drugs make people feel better. It doesn't make the problem gone.

“I just want to be away. I don't want to be in the middle of this. Is that so bad?”

No. Leaving your problems for other people to take care of. That's what's bad.

“I know, but…”

“Nico.”

You spin. Blofis is leaning in the doorway, holding his earbuds in his hand.

“Oh,” you laugh too loudly.

“Nico, who are you talking to?”

“The…” your mouth opens, closes. “The moths…”

(the moths? are you fucking kidding? stupid, stupid, stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupi)

Your wrist burns. Your face burns. You realize suddenly, stupidly, that you’ve been pacing. Blofis watches you with worried, worried eyes, waiting for more, but you’ve got nothing else to say.

“Oh, kid.”

“I've been sleeping. Really, I have. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“And me and my dad are good right now. I promise. He kissed me last night.”

“Okay, Nico.”

“Please believe me.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“Okay.”

He doesn't break eye contact, and you don't know how to without being even more awkward.

“Do you believe me?”

“Yeah, I believe you,” he says, rubbing his forehead as the first bell rings.

You can feel the moths dying and falling, one by one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> halloween is my favorite holiday, fuck those guys for ruining it.  
> thank you so much for reading, please stay tuned!! feedback is seriously appreciated, especially corrections, criticism, and comments  
> ily bye


	18. drunk off the sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the two month long disappearance. school is a thing  
> anyway here

So many eyes. So many. All on you.

You know it's all in your head (no one is paying you any attention) but you still can't bring yourself to look at anyone's face. You bounce your leg as they file into the room, some in costumes, some as they are.

“Hey, you,” Will says. He kisses the top of your head as he sits. He’s in all black, and he's wearing cat ears. Someone has drawn whiskers on his face with what looks like charcoal.

“Oh, hey.” You internally wince at your voice. That’s no good. That was straight up monotone, and Will notices.

“You okay?” he asks, eyebrows already pulling together in the middle.

“Yeah,” you say, kind of. It doesn't come out right, or all the way, or something. Will’s eyebrows are straight lines and he bites his cheek. He turns to the front of the room, but his hand snakes underneath the desk to grip yours in the pocket of your hoodie.

You have a prompt to work on, but neither of you do.

Piper tries to talk to you a few times. Will is more responsive than you are. They laugh and tease, but Will squeezes your hand and you know he's worried about you.

You don't know what to say. You just let him worry.

“What do you have now?” he asks you in the hallway. “Study, right?”

“Yeah…?”

Will glances at his shoes like he’s guilty. “Do you ever… actually go?”

“Yeah, sure. Why?”

He twists him mouth and stops walking, so you stop, too. People rush past on both sides. A few give you dirty looks.

“You wanna just…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He just stares at his shoes a little longer, and it dawns on you.

Will Solace has never skipped a class before. He doesn't know how.

You have to fuck with him.

“Will.”

“Yes--yeah.”

“I don't know what you're trying to invite me to do, but I refuse to partake in any… scandalous behavior.”

His face goes pink and he fumbles over his words as he says, “Oh, no, no, I--I mean, yeah, I’m sorry I assumed, like--of course you--”

You stifle a laugh and he stops and stares at you.

“Dude,” you say.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I mean… seriously.”

“Shut up, Nico.”

You almost double over, your laughter echoing in the now near empty hall. If the bell ever rang, you didn't hear it.

“Shut. Up.”

“You’re such a nerd!”

“Shut up! Oh my god!”

You can't bring yourself to stop laughing right away. Today has been hard and you need this. You need some Will. 

He seems to know this and lets you have your fit.

“Here I was,” he whines, “concerned about you, trying to be considerate. And I get this in return.”

He’s smiling that little something-else smile, the one that's just for you.

You want to kiss him.

Oh, god. Oh, no. Remember “just a boy, Nico”? Whatever happened to that?

“Hey,” you say, sighing happily, “I’m sorry. What is it you want to do?”

He crosses his arms.

“I want to go on a date.”

You stare at him, still sort of bent over from laughing. He stares back.

You cock one eyebrow up. He tries to mimic you, but can't quite seem to move his eyebrow right.

“A date,” you deadpan.

“A date,” he shrugs.

You think for a moment and stand up straight.

You raise and drop one shoulder. “Sure, whatever. Where to?”

By the time Will is marked absent from art, you’ve walked a block with him, holding his warm, freckled hand.

“I just thought, you know, it’s been awhile since we’ve been on a date,” he says.

“Three days,” you reply.

“Did the party really count as a date?” he asks, wrinkling his nose.

You snort. “Hardly. I meant the… what came after.”

Will smiles softly, and you feel like you have to squint to look at him.

Still the sun. Still something like the sun.

It's still grey everywhere else outside, so you're grateful for his heat, his brightness. You own, personal break in the clouds.

“Where are you taking me?” You say lowly, trying to make your voice as soft as his smile. He just brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, and shrugs.

You could be his. For real, his. You just have to let it happen.

You could kiss him right now. Not his jaw, or his knuckles, but him; his face, his mouth. You could suck the spot where his neck meets his collarbone. You could count the freckles pouring over his shoulders with your lips. You could kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him.

God, you could really fucking kiss him.

“You hungry?” Will asks innocently, suddenly, and you return to the cold October air, the charcoal smudged over the spots on his cheek.

You shake your head, feeling disturbingly twitchy and warm. Hot.

(stop it)

Will is quiet for a moment, before sighing a white cloud into the sky.

“I'm going to tell you something, and I don't want you to get mad at me.”

The wind snatches the heat from you again. “I might anyway,” you say, shuddering at the unexpected chill.

“Okay,” he says.

You walk another half a block before he speaks again, his voice cracking.

“I have this friend…”

He likes someone else. He’s leaving you behind.

“... does me favors from time to time…”

Is it Drew Tanaka? It's probably Drew Tanaka. Will has spent the last three days fucking Drew Tanaka.

“... tracked down those guys, because I thought it could be beneficial to know where…”

Will fucking.

There’s a thought.

Now, Will fucking you.

There's a completely different thought.

“... maybe run this idea by Reyna, but I just wanted to be sure we were on the same page first…”

Have you ever even seen Will topless? You feel like you would remember that happening.

You feel like that is something that definitely should happen.

You wonder what makes him moan.

“Does that make sense?”

You stare at his face, blinking. “I… guess so.”

He looks baffled. “Really?!”

Oh no. He was probably saying something important. Just roll with it, play it cool.

“Is that so hard to believe?” you say, mocking offense.

“Well… yeah! Yes!” Will sort of laughs, his eyebrows furrowing. “You usually give me a hard time.”

There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere.

“Plus, I thought this was sort of a sensitive subject? For you?”

You should have been fucking listening.

Whatever, it's fine. You can find out what this was from Reyna. If you just roll with it now, maybe you’ll get to kiss him. Get drunk off Will for a little while. Then you can get mad and worry later.

“It is,” you say carefully. “So I don’t want to talk about it anymore… Right now.”

Will blinks owlishly. “Okay,” he says.

Then you walk a little longer, contemplating the bits and pieces of what you heard.

“Where do you wanna go?” Will asks suddenly.

You scoff. “You asked me to skip class and didn’t have anywhere in mind?”

“I don’t know!”

“How does that make sense?”

“Please just let me live.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes at him, trying to keep up the facade of annoyance, before you tighten your grip on his hand and nudge his shoulder with your cheek.

“Someplace warm,” you suggest. You look him up and down once. “And private.”

His steps stutter and he almost trips.

“Wha--uh, how private?”

You decide to stop being shy. “I’ve never seen your room before.”

He opens his mouth to say something, closes it to bite his cheek, and sighs through his nose. He scrubs his hair with his free hand.

“Uh, yeah,” he squeaks, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> then they made out  
> there will be a short time lapse after this  
> thank you so much for reading!! feel free to give me feedback, especially criticism and corrections. love you all, see you at the next update


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